Living Without Molly
by Jazzola
Summary: Gene and Alex are on their honeymoon. Molly is staying with Chris and Shaz. Let the fun begin! M for some rather hot scenes, and plenty of steaming Galex. Sequel to Living Without Alex  and Living Without Gene.
1. On Honeymoon

Molly almost tripped over her white dress waving frantically at the ribbon-adorned bright red Quattro drawing slowly away from the church, her flowers forgotten on the grass as she mouthed "Love you both!" at the car's neatly-moulded rear end as it vanished down the lane. Shaz was wiping tears behind her, Chris trying to hold them in and Ray cursing as Mandy Skelton stepped on his foot in her killer heels, hissing, "Damn yer, yer bastard, cry!"

Ray's reply was (thankfully) lost in the crowd of people heading back into the church, collecting belongings after waving the happy couple off into the sunset for a honeymoon. Nothing too special, it had seemed on first glance- but then Molly had found out that they were going to the Highlands for four days of pure pleasure, each other and the mountains their only company. She smiled to the trees surrounding the road as she remembered what her mother had said: "When I first arrived here, there was nothing I wouldn't have done to avoid having to spend more than a day in the presence of Gene Hunt. Now I can think of nothing better."

"Molls?"

Molly turned to see Shaz standing behind her, her eye make-up smudged everywhere as she beckoned Molly back inside the church. Neither Gene nor Alex were religious, but since the church's only real religious symbols were a couple of stained-glass windows, being out in the middle of nowhere, it radiated romance rather than Christ and they had decided it was perfect.

"Chris'll get the car. You got your stuff?"

Molly nodded, smiling. Shaz and Chris had volunteered to look after her for two days, and then she would be in the capable hands of Mandy Skelton once again. She turned to stare at the road again, imagining her mother's happy laugh and Gene's broad smile in the Quattro as it bounced along the roads, gleeful as a child in a sandpit.

"They'll 'ave a great time, Molls," Shaz said happily, directing the young girl inside the church to go out the front entrance towards the car park. The skid marks from Gene's handbrake turn were still etched firmly into the gravel; Molly had to stop herself laughing as Chris tried to copy his Guv and ended up stalling the car.

"Baby, you 'ad to 'ave three goes at your licence, take it one step at a time," Shaz sighed indulgently, slipping in and choosing to ignore Chris' scowl. Molly got into the back, sniggering.

"Yer got everythin', Molls?" Chris called back, catching Molly's eye in the rear-view mirror, his blue and green gaze smiling as he chose to let Shaz's remark go. Molly nodded.

"It's all in the boot."

Chris accelerated out of the car park, blocking Ray's way out and giving him a smirk as Ray beeped loudly and several people laughed. Molly sat back, watching the trees going by and thinking of the picture her mother had shown her of the cottage she'd booked as a surprise for Gene, knowing that he was having difficulty finding anywhere. It had looked so perfect, so rugged and determined and sweet- in a nutshell, perfect for rugged Gene and determined Alex and a sweet honeymoon.

Mandy Skelton passed by in her ancient Volvo, waving with the biggest grin possible on her face to her son and sending both Shaz and Molly into fits of laughter as Chris complained loudly about being overtaken by his mother.

* * *

"Here we are," Alex said softly as the Quattro drew up outside the small mountain cottage and Gene opened his door, his brightly polished snakeskin boots crunching on the stones as he walked round the car to pick Alex up in both arms, kissing her cheek gently as he eased the door closed with his foot and dropped the keys onto her stomach for her to lock the car. Alex laughed, wrapping her arms round his neck, pulling him down for a proper kiss and entangling her hands in his mane of blond hair, murmuring her love for him against his skin, feeling his desire for her literally growing, just beneath his belt.

"Oh shit," he groaned as his trousers began to protest, Alex laughing as he hurriedly headed into the house, slamming the door behind him and scouting through to find the bedroom, managing to discover every other room in the house- including the utility room and the cloakroom- before finding the small bedroom, secluded right at the back of the house.

"Guess the journey ends 'ere, eh, Bolls?" he murmured, dropping her onto the bed carefully and easing himself on to straddle her, pressing his lips against hers once again, feeling her responding eagerly. Her fingers found his tie, a bright aqua blue to bring out his eyes, slipping it over his head and rucking up his hair, pulling the knot apart as it threatened to split their mouths embracing. With his messy hair and his burning desire apparent in his eyes, his smart suit and the gleaming ring on his finger, he had never looked better to Alex.

"Oh no, it's only just beginning," she whispered to him, finding his shirt buttons just as he discovered the hook on her dress, fingers scrabbling to free smooth flesh to the air as they lost themselves in each other, forgetting the rest of the world, their only thoughts of bliss.

And then they were flying, in a universe of warm skin and tangled limbs and lips pressing gently to their partners, fingers stroking, bodies sliding, miraculous sensations building and building to a divine climax as they gasped each others' names, the miracles exploding in their bodies as they lay together, complete, replete with joy.

Gene felt her fingers stealing into his through the haze of bliss, wrapping his hand in hers as she brought it up to her face, kissing each knuckle in turn, feeling his body press against hers as he turned slightly to feel her flesh against his.

"Christ, Bolly, yer never fail ter amaze me," he murmured into her shoulder, kissing her bare flesh, all the way down to her belly button, pausing halfway to savour a certain spot before carrying on. She gasped, wriggling under his attentions, her hand sliding down to stroke the baby-soft hairs at the nape of his neck.

"And I'm beginning to wonder if all those boasts about you being a legendary lover were true after all," she teased, pulling him back up to kiss him. He drew back, pretending to look insulted.

"Only now? Looks like I need ter up my game," he grinned, reaching down to feel her warm flesh once again, sliding his hand south until it found what it wanted. Alex gave a little gasp.

"Oh, Gene... oh, you're filthy!" she giggled as he paid special attention to that area, leaning down to inspect it and bobbing his head back up, his eyes darkened with lust once again.

"An' yer love it," he laughed, ducking back down to carry on with what he was doing as she gasped, laughing out loud at the sensations.

"Don't you dare stop... oh God, I love you, Gene..."

* * *

Molly sat down on the little armchair in her room, looking out of the window at the 80s landscape of London, smiling as Shaz brought in a cup of tea for her and sat down next to her, putting an arm round her.

"They'll be 'avin' a great time. Not to put you off your tea, Molls."

Molly laughed.

"I can deal with it. I found Mum's slightly torn knickers behind the sofa once."

"OK, now I don' need to know!" Shaz gasped, sending Molly into giggles. They sat in companionable silence for a while, cradling their tea, looking out of the window.

"Thanks for taking me in, Shaz," Molly said eventually, turning to watch the young woman as she smiled. "I didn't want Mum and Dad to be worrying about me while they were away."

"That's OK," Shaz said, giving Molly a one-armed hug. Chris came in with his own tea, muttering something about leaving a video somewhere to Shaz and receiving an eye-roll.

"It's on the sofa, baby. In plain sight."

Chris muttered something along the lines of "oh, right, I knew that" before beating a hasty retreat. Shaz and Molly exchanged glances and giggled.

Whatever these two days at Chris and Shaz's were going to be like, they weren't going to be uneventful.

* * *

A/N: I hope you like it! Please please please review- if I don't get enough reviews, I'll take this one down. Thanks for reading, though! Jazzola :)


	2. Maps and Driving Just Don't Go

"Mornin', Sleepin' Beauty."

Alex's eyes slowly opened to show her Gene, lying next to her, holding out a cup of tea with one hand and stroking her hair gently with the other. She smiled lazily, closing her eyes again to savour his touch, the smell of the tea beginning to bring her back to the land of the living. Or at least, the land of the people who weren't half comatose after having the brains shagged out of them the previous night.

"Thanks, Gene, didn't know you could make tea," she teased gently, sitting up and accepting it. He gave her arse a quick slap, leaning over her to find her duvet-covered behind, and settled down next to her, his eyes never once leaving her as she sipped her tea and got herself into a sitting position.

"What?" she asked, unnerved, afraid he was going to tell her she had dribble on her face or her hair looked a mess. Gene shook his head, looking away.

"Nothin'."

"Well, you were staring at something."

Alex's hand travelled up to check her face, running over it as Gene reached out to take it away, smoothing his thumb over the back of it as he looked down slightly, his shyness endearing to Alex as a little pink tinge entered his rugged cheeks.

"No, Bolly, not that. Yer face looks fine, just as pretty as ever. Just... I'm lucky, a bloody lucky bloke, ter 'ave such a sexy, charmin', amazin' woman as you."

It was one of the most touching things he had ever said to her, and Alex instantly felt tears brimming in her eyes at his words. Not caring that the tea slopped over and splashed onto the immaculate aqua blue covers, she pulled him into a huge hug, pressing her lips to his as her tongue sought entry, feeling his mouth slowly part to allow it access and his own tongue, tasting suspiciously like cheese on toast, twisting seductively round hers. She moaned, unable to resist, feeling his arousal beginning to literally grow and noting her own becoming increasingly obvious.

"Well, well, well," she murmured against his mouth as she discovered a little bit of cheese right at the back of his mouth, lapping at it and smiling as he reflexively swallowed it, his throat bobbing beneath hers. "So Gene Hunt can cook. What a turn-on..."

Gene tackled her, laughing, pinning her to the bed as she reached for his pyjama buttons, shedding his bottoms himself.

The tea stood discarded by the side of the bed, the liquid within shuddering slightly every so often as the room heated up, trembled, and exploded with passion.

* * *

Molly's eyes opened to the buzzing of her alarm clock beside her bed, shrieking to her that it was that time of day again as she reached out to turn it off. Chris and Shaz were already up, making breakfast in the kitchen; it came as no surprise to see that Chris was only entrusted to stirring the baked beans and Shaz was the one breaking the eggs, spreading the toast and checking the bacon. To his credit, however, he was watching Shaz with an almost child-like studiousness, taking in how she did the cooking and storing it away for later reference.

"Where do you want your beans, Molls?" Shaz asked, turning to give Molly a one-armed hug to say good morning and hissing to Chris to turn the hob off under the beans. He managed to make it twice as large before eventually shutting it off, giving a little "phew!" under his breath at a crisis averted.

"On the egg, please," Molly replied, sitting down at the table and accepting a generous plate of cooked breakfast, the kind Gene "required" on a daily basis but she and Alex could only deal with every other day. She tucked in with gusto, making a mental note that Shaz was a good cook and to recommend Alex swapped to this brand of bacon.

"Chris, you OK driving Molls to school? I need to pop away for a few minutes, can make my own way to work," Shaz said, kissing Chris on the cheek as she grabbed her coat from the hook by the door, giving Molly another quick hug and heading out with a call of "love you baby!"

In the silence that followed, Chris looked round at Molly, nervousness etched on his face as he considered the teenage girl in the kitchen with him.

"Er, well... er... I might need yer ter, um, tell me where yer school is."

Molly bit her lip and giggled.

* * *

"No, no, other way, Chris... I meant the third exit, not the first one!"

"Sorry, it's this engine, can't 'ear yer over it!"

Twenty minutes later and Molly was most definitely going to be late for school. Chris had managed to get them to the other side of Fenchurch, either misinterpreting or not hearing Molly's directions, and was now completely lost and clogging up one of the lanes while he tried to look at a map whilst driving, something which was bound to end badly.

CRASH.

Both Molly and Chris were thrown forwards in their seats as the car collided, thankfully at a fairly low speed, with a lamp-post, which decided to protest against the car ramming into it and fought back. Steam began billowing from the bonnet of the car as Molly looked up to see Chris staring at the front windscreen, his hands positioned to be holding a map but the map in question adorning his face, which had torn through it with his nose where Bethnal Green should have been.

Although they had just had a car crash, Molly couldn't help laughing at the combined effect of the shocked expression on Chris' face and the new head-dress.

* * *

Alex wound her arms round Gene as they collapsed back onto the bed, a tangled, sweaty heap of limbs and panting chests and hands grasping at each others' flesh. She felt like nothing could hurt her anymore, her euphoria lifting her onto a separate planet as Gene gasped for oxygen next to her, equally star-struck.

"Bolly, I..."

He was cut off abruptly by something; Alex looked round to see him clap a hand to his mouth, leaping off the bed and running through into the bathroom naked. While it wasn't exactly an unpleasant sight, she wanted to know what was happening.

"Gene...? Gene!"

Jumping off the blue covers herself, Alex followed him, pulling the door open to see him bent over the toilet, vomiting into the bowl and only turning slightly when she knelt down next to him, putting her hand on his hot back, rubbing over it as he retched again and again into the loo.

"I think we can learn a life lesson from this," she murmured to him, leaning against his shoulder and seeing what was left of the cheese on toast floating in front of her. "No strenuous exercise right after eating."

Gene groaned, but had to accept she was right.

* * *

A/N: So, how'd I do? Hope you liked it! Please remember to review. Jazzola :)


	3. The Good, The Bad and The Div

"You div!"

The remonstration came from Molly as soon as she had stopped giggling, her eyes wide and her hand covering her mouth. Chris gaped for a minute, mouth opening and shutting goldfish-style before he managed to muster saying something.

"Molls, we should get out."

Molly obeyed, heading out onto the verge and standing there in her school uniform as Chris headed round the front of the car to survey the damage to bonnet and lamp post. Several people beeped at them as they passed, and Chris silently prayed that nobody he knew was out today as eased the bonnet down and walked over to join Molly on the grass, scratching his forehead as she looked at him expectantly. It struck him how he'd never had someone rely on him before in this way; the only person he really had to care for was Shaz, and she was more than capable of getting along independently. Some days he wondered who exactly took on the responsibilities in their house.

"I can fix it," he said in a tone that was meant to be bright but came out more like he was announcing the approach of a giant meteor towards the Earth. Molly raised her eyebrows, not helping Chris' nervousness by looking exactly like her mother in her skepticism.

"Can you?"

"Er... yeah," Chris muttered, hurrying down to grab the toolbox from the boot and beginning to circle the dented bonnet like an eagle, pushing the cover up and setting to work as Molly winced from the sidelines.

One hour later, the car looked in a worse state than it had when Chris had started, and Molly was reduced to counting daisies and reciting lines out of Scooby-Doo cartoons for entertainment. The police radio in the back of the car crackled into static-pocked life, and Chris abandoned his efforts to grab it, his face screwed up in worry as he answered.

"Chris, where are yer, yer div? Molly's school 'ave phoned, they're askin' why she's not there. Did yer get lost? It's only ten bloody minutes away from yer 'ouse!"

Chris lowered his head.

"I, er... well, maybe yer could come an' get Molls an' take 'er ter school..."

"Ferget it, Chris. The Guv'll kill me if 'e comes back an' finds out I 'aven' done the stuff the Super sent down. Never makin' another bloody drinkin' bet with 'im again. Yer'll 'ave ter read yer map."

"I... can't."

"What d'yer mean, yer can't read the bloody map? Even a bloody amoeba could read a bastard map!"

"I can read the map. Just not this map."

"Why not?"

"I 'ad a crash. Drivin' while readin' the map. My... my 'ead went through the map."

For a minute, there was shocked disbelief on the other end of the radio, and then a spluttery, wheezing, slightly hysterical noise came through. Ray was laughing so hard he was choking.

Chris could only stand and listen as his last hope of getting Molly to school any time this week dissolved into uncontrollable laughter.

"D'yer, er, want ter take a taxi ter school, Molls?"

* * *

"Molls should be at school by now," Alex murmured against Gene's chest, leaning against him as the TV broadcast _The Good, The Bad and The Ugly_. Gene wriggled slightly to ease her off his leg, nodding; Alex smiled as his hair brushed against her cheek, dishevelled from their- activities- which had distracted him from his shower. He was engrossed in the film, his lips moving slightly to half-remembered lines, his attention so rapt it made him look like a little boy again, a childish attentiveness in his eyes. Her smile widened as his arm snuck round her; evidently, not even _The Good, The Bad and The Ugly _could completely distract him from his new wife.

"Yer comfy?" he asked quietly, his eyes finding hers as she gazed up at him, a beam on her face. "What? Yer look like a cat that's been in the cream."

"You," Alex murmured simply, pushing herself further up his body. He still smelt of sex, primal and masculine; her nipples crinkled just smelling it, and as she pushed them against his chest she felt him responding to her, his flesh hardening as though it was reaching out to her, begging for her gentle, passionate, burning touch.

"Jesus, Alex..." he gasped as his hand slid up her shirt, easing its way under the lacy bra to find her readiness, her arousal rock hard against his elegant fingers. Alex hummed gently, her fingers making short work of his trousers, exposing an erection and a half to the dim daylight.

As her fingers worked him rhythmically, sensually, she leaned up to whisper in his ear, cutting through his groans and gasps.

"Not going to be sick after this, are you?"

It was all Gene could do to shake his head before the sensory overload took him over completely.

* * *

Molly had always hated chemistry. Always. Even in her old life, with the sophisticated science lab of her school, she had loathed it, even bunking off once with her friends and faking a sick note from her mother. Her interest lay in psychology, in the science of the mind, and double covalent bonds, sodium thiosulphate and conical flasks held very little appeal for her.

Especially now that she was stood in the middle of the lab, covered in diluted hydrochloric acid, and surrounded by girls yelling at her.

"Molly, kill her!" one half of the girls yelled. The other half continued to taunt her, grins on their faces as Molly's fists clenched, her face turning into a scowl beneath the sopping hair.

Being from the future did give you a certain difference, and with that difference came many perks, but some downsides too. And the downside Molly was feeling keenly right now was the jealousy that her advanced learning brought with it. Bullies found her an easy target to gravitate towards, and this particular one- Catherine Finley- had had the gall to first insult Alex by calling her a "loony" and then tip the beaker of acid over Molly's head.

Molly glared at her adversary, thinking hard. Either she could give Catherine the satisfaction- and hopefully some bruises- by fighting her right there in the lab, or she could gain the moral upper hand by walking out and phoning CID.

No.

Her eyes suddenly gleamed as she remembered who her stepfather was; Catherine's gaze faltered, a little uncertainty beginning to creep in as Molly stepped forwards, a smile on her face.

"I'm just going to go and phone my father," she said sweetly, menace lacing every syllable, her crystal-cut accent adding to the effect. Catherine made a brave attempt at a sneer.

"Going running to Daddy, are you? Like a little Daddy's girl?"

"Yes, I am," Molly said happily, squaring up to Catherine, giving every bit as good as she got. Damn, she was going to enjoy the next bit. "My father, _Detective Chief Inspector Gene Hunt._"

She rolled out the words as though they were honey, savouring them in her mouth as Catherine's expression changed from "bring it" to "oh shit..." in an almost entertainingly short amount of time.

Turning and walking out, Molly smiled to herself.

Now to carry out her threat.

* * *

Gene screamed out loud as his body shuddered beneath Alex's touch, passion pouring from his body, tingling all over as she bathed him in kisses, gasping herself as her body demanded oxygen. His eyes were wide and wondrous, his hair damp and mussed as it stuck to his forehead; she wiped his skin gently with one shaking hand, feeling the thin sheen of desire on her fingers.

"Bloody 'ell, Alex," Gene murmured, holding her close as the aftershocks ran through both of them, bodies pressed close together: closer than close, he thought as she locked her lips against his, desire in her tongue as it pressed gently against his.

Slowly, the outside world filtered through again; they settled to their previous positions on the now slightly battered sofa, Gene's arm round Alex, her form cuddled up against him, warmth glowing in their skin. On the screen, a man spoke, one of the lines Gene had never forgotten since he'd first seen the film in the tacky Mancunian cinema.

_"You want to know who you are? Huh? You want to know whose son you are? You don't, I do, everybody does... you're the son of a thousand fathers, all bastards like you."_

His body tingled again. Somehow he felt like he connected to that line. It manifested itself in his head every time he thought of the film, the strong voice, the glaring gaze.

Yet he'd never figured out why it affected him so much. Not consciously, anyway.

The phone rang, shattering his thoughts; he grasped for them again, sighing as they flew the nest.

"I'll get it," he said gently, pulling a blanket over from the armchair and wrapping it round Alex as her post-orgasmic lethargy claimed her. Hearing her gentle, snuffly sleep-breathing starting up, a sound he would never get tired of, Gene headed towards the phone, pulling it off the receiver as he always did and having to grab the phone as it toppled off the table.

"Argh... 'ello?"

"Dad?"

"Molls, yer OK?"

"A girl threw acid over me, Dad. I'm fine, honest, but-"

"_Acid? _Molls, tell me what 'appened."

Molly related the sorry tale as Gene's whole body became rigid, his eyes narrowing every time Molly said her enemy's name.

_She'll be bloody sorry._

Alex materialised next to him, looking worried; Gene handed the phone over silently, letting Molly repeat her tale and hearing Alex hissing her breath out in pure fury.

Being a parent was a rollercoaster, but he was bloody glad he'd bought a ticket.


	4. Surprises and a Bad Time To Phone

Molly rang off with a deep feeling of satisfaction. Catherine would get more than her comeuppance courtesy of the Met, the rest of the class would be shown that Molly Drake was not someone to be messed with and she was feeling good after chatting with her parents. They'd assured her that everything was going swimmingly, they were having a great time together, and that they missed her but were always there at the end of the phone for her. She planned to tell them about that morning later; it was obvious they were in the middle of something, even though they'd been more concerned about her immediately. It was their honeymoon, she wanted them to enjoy it.

Shaz should be here any minute now to pick her up from school; Chris was not going to be trusted with ferrying her around again in a hurry. The garage had laughed their heads off when Chris had told them how he'd crashed his car, and so had most of CID.

Molly ran her hand through her freshly-washed hair, checking for any acid damage. It had been very diluted hydrochloric acid, and the school nurse had said it wouldn't do any visible damage but had still taken her to hospital as a precaution, for a specialised wash and thorough check-over. The headmistress had been livid, but after hearing that the police was involved had stepped back to let them deal with it. Molly didn't mind all the fuss. It had been just like going to the hairdresser's, something Molly loved.

Shaz's car abruptly drew up, shaking Molly out of her thoughts; she clambered in, stuffing her schoolbag in the footwell and clipping herself in as Shaz headed out, sliding onto the dual carriageway.

"Aside from the acid, 'ow'd it go?"

"OK, yeah- how'd you know about the acid? I didn't phone CID."

"Your dad phoned," Shaz smiled, flicking the indicator on. "Told us to make a record o' the incident, an' that 'e'd be sortin' that girl out soon as 'e got back."

Molly grinned.

"She has something to worry about now."

"Well, Gene won' let go o' the case until 'e's put the fear o' God up that girl," Shaz smiled. "They get the acid out?"

She indicated with her head to Molly's damp hair.

"The hospital did. They washed my skin and hair. One of the teachers took me."

Shaz nodded.

"Look, Molly, I- well, I need some 'elp."

Molly nodded, turning to face the young WDC.

"See, I, er... when I went off this mornin', I went to the pharmacy."

Molly's attention sharpened as she envisaged what Shaz was going to say next. _Was she?_

"Molls, I'm- pregnant."

Molly's mouth gaped open.

"You're pregnant? That's brilliant!"

Shaz smiled.

"It is, but... it's goin' to mean I 'ave to leave work for a while. An' I'm worried... what if Gene promotes someone else into my position? Or I scare Chris off? Or I'm no good at bein' a mum? Or..."

"Shaz. Listen to yourself! No way are any of those things going to happen. Gene values you as part of the team, and he doesn't need another DC. Chris is a bit of a coward when it comes to things like this, but he'll be over the moon, he'll love being a dad. And you're a born mother. Look how you've treated me. You've been one of the people here I can really rely on. You'll be brilliant at it- that baby couldn't wish for a better mum."

There was silence for a few seconds after Molly had finished.

_Oh. Have I offended her?_

Molly turned to look straight at Shaz, seeing a huge beam on her face, tears dribbling down her rounded cheeks and splashing onto her red batwing top.

"Oh, Molls, thank you!"

She pulled over and enveloped Molly in a huge hug, her tears splashing onto Molly's back, the occasional sniff making Molly smile. Molly rested her hand on Shaz's belly, her own eyes growing a little misty as she envisaged the baby growing within.

"You hear that? You've got an amazing mum. You're going to love her so much," she whispered to the tiny being within. Shaz squeezed her hard, kissing her cheek, relief and happiness shining in her bright brown eyes as she shifted the car back into gear and headed towards CID.

* * *

_Dinner, __à__ la Gene Hunt._

Once again, Gene had been content to show off hitherto unknown cooking skills while Alex phoned CID to keep up with the latest cases and have a natter with Molly and Shaz. Lamb casserole and chips, accompanied by steamed carrots and broccoli drenched with thick gravy.

_Now I know how he kept that beer belly after his divorce._

Alex leaned back in her chair, stuffed full of good food; Gene had finished what felt like hours ago, perfectly content to just sit there and watch her eating.

"That. Was. Gorgeous," she grinned at him, standing up to pull him into a hug. "Probably not the wisest thing to cook after being sick this morning, but cooked brilliantly."

"I'm a man o' many skills, me," he replied cockily, pulling her in for a long, slow kiss and then letting her stand back up with a massive smile on her face as he stood up, gathering her up in his warm arms and heading through into the bedroom.

* * *

Molly played with a strand of long dusky blonde hair, pretending to do her homework in her room but surreptitiously reading from the book of baby names Shaz's mother had given her years ago. She had it open at the letter "M", browsing through until her own name caught her eye and she leaned in for a closer look.

_Molly- derived from Mary, meaning "sea of bitterness", "rebelliousness" or "wished-for child". Also believed to have come from an Egyptian name, meaning "love" or "beloved"._

Molly grinned. Even her own name was controversy itself!

Giving up on the English homework, she started leafing through the book, eyes scanning each page hungrily for anything that sprang out at her. She sighed. She needed a name to encompass Shaz's courage and cleverness, and Chris' devotion and gentle happiness.

Her mother would be able to help her. She could make out it was for a project; Shaz had wanted to tell her in person.

Standing up and reaching for the phone sitting next to her desk, Molly dialled the number for the cottage.

* * *

Alex gave a gutteral moan as Gene worked his magic on her, urging him on as he panted in her ear, kissing down her neck, sucking and tickling with his tongue, making her writhe and squeal. His breath hitched for a second as he reached down to feel for her readiness, hissing through his teeth at what he found, and readied himself, straddling her and whispering in her ear.

"Ready?"

Alex nodded, wrapping her arms round him, pushing her hips up as he entered her in one smooth movement, yelping out loud and laughing at the feelings zinging through her body.

One flailing hand knocked the phone off the receiver before it had even had the chance to ring.

* * *

Molly felt a little surprise at how quickly the phone was picked up at the other end, sitting down on her chair and preparing to speak, waiting for the person on the other end to announce themselves.

Her eyes grew wide as a loud, desperate moan came from the phone, a squeal, the sound of rustling bedclothes...

"Oh, Gene... oh God, you dirty... you... devil..."

Molly slammed the phone back onto the receiver, sitting completely still, numb with shock and embarrassment, her cheeks glowing scarlet.

As soon as she could, she started laughing, gasping with mirth at what had just happened, bent over as she cried through her hilarity.

"I am NEVER phoning them at night again!"

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the delay, was in Wales for five days with my little cousins, which meant waking up at eight every morning to the sound of two small people yelling "Des a girl in dere!" It is a relief to be getting back to some nice, steamy Galex... xD Hope you liked it, and please, please remember to review! Thanks for reading. Jazzola :)


	5. Fancy A Walk?

A/N: Sorry for the delay! Two days of intensive Ethics and Philosophy revision for my exams (5 hours non-stop, give me some pity in the form of reviews, people), and Sims Medieval, have kept me from updating. And finishing Blue and Yellow and Red. Loved that fic... *sniffs* Anyway, read on, review, and I will add in that Polly is my dog actually, and yes, her owner is mad. (I was talking to my spaghetti yesterday, while I was cooking it.) :D Jazzola :)

* * *

Molly was reluctant to ring her parents the next morning; after psyching herself up for a few minutes, and reminding herself that they were unlikely to be doing anything too bad at eight in the morning, she dialled through, tensing as she got a sleepy grunt out of her stepfather.

"Molls? Hi, love. Yer OK?"

Molly exhaled with relief, winding the phone cord round her fingers as she heard Shaz yelling at Chris downstairs to take the bacon out or face her wrath. The cravings had set in, and this morning it was smoked bacon; yesterday, Shaz had admitted, it had been spam, which explained why they now had a cupboard full of the stuff.

"OK, but full to the gills with spam."

"Spam? What?"

"Long story. Shaz'll tell you when you're back. Sleep well?"

She couldn't resist teasing him a little; she giggled as she envisaged his frown on the other end, the little line between his eyes that he got when he was trying to figure something out, most frequently seen when he was helping her with her homework or attempting to fix things around the house. At least it meant good trade for the local businesses.

"Fine," he simply replied, still sounding a little perplexed. Molly grinned, letting the wire go and watching as it snagged on the edge of the table, pulling at it again as she spoke.

"Having a good time?"

"Yes," Gene said evenly, evidently trying not to give too much away. Molly laughed; who would've imagined the Manc Lion getting all red in the face over sex?

"They taught us about the birds and the bees in school, Gene. I think I can cope with it. Just don't give details."

"Yer wise beyond yer years," Gene groaned; something rustled in the background, and she imagined him lying back on his pillows, snuggled up in bed with her mother. For a moment, a pang shot into her stomach, and she fondly remembered lying in bed with them, snuggled up to Gene with her mother's arms round her, all of them half-asleep, Alex's head on Gene's shoulder so that her brown curls tickled Molly's face. _Don't get jealous. They're having the time of their lives. Once they get back to you, it's back to the office, the days when everything seems to go wrong, and telling Chris he's a div every five seconds._

"Yer did the right thing yesterday," Gene said sleepily, jolting Molly out of her daydream. "Phonin' us when that bitch poured acid onter yer. Anythin' 'appens ter yer, an' we want ter know about it, immediately."

"OK, Dad. But I don't think she'll do anything else soon. She went pretty white when I told her who my father was."

Gene chuckled, his hair brushing the phone as he turned to answer a murmured question from his right.

"Molls- yeah, I can 'and yer over. Molls? Yer want ter talk ter yer mum?"

"Not yet," Molly said quickly, stalling him. "Question. What's your favourite girl's name?"

"Girl's name? Why d'yer ask?"

"Oh, it's for a project, at school. We have to make up a family. I couldn't think of a girl's name. Any ideas?"

"Er... not somethin' I think about a lot. Holly?"

"Are you just saying that because it rhymes with Molly and Bolly?" Molly asked shrewdly, a little smirk on her face.

"No. Perfectly capable o' independent thinkin'. 'S just nice. Simple, understated, pretty. An' Polly is fer parrots."

"I knew a dog called Polly. A Golden Retriever."

"The owners must've been mad. Or very confused. Yer mum wants a word."

Molly gave her assent, smiling as her mother's voice came on the line, smooth and gentle, a little sleepy.

"Girl's names?"

Molly laughed.

"Not much gets past a Detective Inspector, does it? Especially not one sleeping next to- and with- her DCI..."

* * *

It took a while for anyone to get out of bed in the small cottage, and even more time for two bowls of muesli to appear on the table in front of the yawning, heavy-eyed couple; they gulped it down, Gene complaining about the lack of meat or baked beans, and settled on the sofa, the TV off, just holding onto each other and dozing, a rare luxury back home. Between Molly and their hectic schedules and social lives, they rarely got any time to themselves, and when they did it was in the middle of noisy London, not out in the middle of nowhere where their biggest worry was having to run into the draughty utility room half-naked due to running out of loo paper.

"You know, I reckon we should go somewhere," Alex said brightly, sitting up and looking round at her husband, seeing his eyebrows draw together slightly.

"Where?"

"Well, we're surrounded by mountains. We could go for a walk. Look, it's sunny out, it would be great- just you and me and the countryside..."

Gene was wearing his sceptical look.

"An' get lost, or get caught in rain, or get attacked by some bloody mountain beast..."

Alex rolled her eyes.

"We can take a map, and the cottage's in plain sight, there aren't any clouds as far as the eye can see, and the nearest beasts are in a zoo. This is Scotland, not the Amazon Rainforest; the most exotic thing around here is the pineapple in the fruit bowl."

Gene sighed.

"Alright then. Bet it's cold."

"It's June. How cold can it get?"

* * *

"T-t-this cold," Alex shuddered, clinging onto Gene as he consulted the map, his teeth chattering to the same beat as hers as he clutched at his coat, huddling with her as they tried to shield the map from the worst of the rain. Alex hadn't seen the rainclouds approaching from the other side of the mountains, and neither had they taken into account the freezing air it would bring. Alex was in a blouse and tight jeans, no outerwear at all; Gene had brought his Crombie coat, but even that was doing a poor job of keeping the intrepid duo above freezing.

"Told yer we should've st-st-stayed at the c-cottage," Gene grumbled, turning and pinpointing a direction, dragging her along with him, sheltering her icy hand in the folds of his coat. Sighing, he pulled the black wool from his shoulders and bundled her up in it, ignoring the chill wind stabbing at his body through the thin shirt and jeans and rubbing his thumb over the back of her hand, trying to infuse some warmth into the frigid skin.

"That's cold an' rain, an' we're lost. Just need somethin' ter attack us now..."

"Rover!" a Scottish voice abruptly called, cutting through the blustery air like a foghorn, closely followed by the sound of panting as a large shaggy dog leapt up on Alex from behind, beginning to hump her leg.

"GET IT OFF ME!" Alex screamed, shaking her leg as though it was covered in parasites; the dog sat back with a confused look, lunging in again and getting a shriek from Alex as she grabbed at Gene, lifting herself off the ground by his shoulders and just catching his sigh as he lifted her into his arms, away from the hound.

"Just fancies yer, that's all. Can't blame 'im, but I will tell the bastard ter keep 'is paws off, this one's mine."

Alex gave a weak giggle, gasping in relief as the dog sauntered off, evidently deeming her not such a desirable conquest after all.

"Come on, we're goin' 'ome," Gene murmured into her shoulder, turning and setting off with Alex snuggled in his arms.

"Watch out for the bracken, it's great at tripping you up," Alex warned as they approached it. Gene gave a derisive snort.

"I'd like ter see a bloody plant trip the Gene Genie u- agh!"

His ankle became ensnared in a particularly wiry area of bracken, with the result that both he and Alex went head over heels into a large, weedy puddle, drenching them both.

Spluttering and yelping, the pair scrabbled out of the pool, wiping filthy water from their eyes as they began wringing out their clothes, looking up at each other through the rain, soaked through, hair plastered to their heads and eyelashes stuck together, faces painted with brown liquid from the ground.

"You were saying?" Alex teased, squeezing her hair out. Gene cradled his ankle, sending her an unimpressed look from under his fringe, now hanging over his eyes.

"Get up," he sighed, helping her up and wordlessly leaning on her to take the weight off his ankle, beginning to make their undignified way back to the cottage.

* * *

A couple of undescribably cold hours later and Gene and Alex limped through the door of the cottage, feet squelching in sodden footwear, skin pruned from the rainwater. Alex found an ice compress in the freezer for Gene's ankle, sitting him on the sofa with a mug of tea and a blanket, both of them huddled in blankets and nothing else as they sat down together and supped at the hot brew, hair dripping onto the back of the sofa.

"Bolly."

"Hello?"

"Yer givin' me the 'orn. Just a blanket... not even bloody underwear."

"Let your ankle recover, Randy Pandy."

"Exercise cures most things..." Gene murmured, stealing closer to her, landing an open-mouthed kiss on her neck. Alex wriggled, trying to ignore what her body was telling her, squealing as Gene found her readiness, his hands gliding between the two throbbing areas, working her into a fever pitch of arousal.

"Oh, Gene... Gene... Jesus, you... oh God!"

She gave up on resting his ankle quite quickly.


	6. The Definition Of Awkward

A/N: A little more explicit in this chapter... hey, I love hot Galex :D For the weak-stomached, please look down to Molly's part and read that. Please remember to review! Jazzola :

* * *

Several hours, a few towels and a lot of moaning later, the intrepid explorers were lounging in bed, Gene's ankle resting on a small rut of duvet as Alex's foot stroked up and down his leg idly, her head resting on his naked chest. The feel of her thick hair sneaking between his chest hairs made Gene's skin tingle happily, his chin brushing her crown as he leaned back on the headboard, counting his blessings as Alex blew gently onto his nipple, stroking her hip beneath the duvet.

"Any pain?" Alex asked gently, prodding at his foot with her toes, making him wince.

"'S fine if yer don' prod it."

Alex smiled, draping her arm over his stomach and idly pinching his buttock, earning herself a cheeky look.

"Just can't get enough, can yer, Bolls?"

"Well... you are all mine now, though..." Alex purred, moving closer to him, pressing her body against his as he shifted to cover something up, looking down at her with eyes darkened with lust and love.

"Not anybody's, Bolly. I'm the Gene Genie. My own man."

Alex snuck her hand beneath the covers to find a certain rigid something, hard and hot against her hand, beginning to stroke and cup it as he tensed, his body responding almost instantly, his length seeming to reach out for her, a little moisture seeping from the top as his lips parted, his breathing erratic. Her face split into a broad grin as she halted abruptly, making Gene's throat draw in a breathy gasp, his eyes swerving to hers.

"Whose are you?" Alex whispered in a seductive, sugar-sweet voice, her nails pinching Gene's manhood. Gene gave a stranged whimper.

"Fuckin' bloody..."

"Whose are you?"

Gene yelped as her fingers brushed against his balls, finding the straining skin, caressing his crotch as she pressed an open-mouthed kiss to his neck, her mouth finding his pulse, feeling the heart beating desperately beneath.

Her fingers withdrew suddenly, making him groan, reaching out for her hand, for the magical fingers; her fingertip grazed against his foreskin, making him wince with desire and need, his whole body shuddering at her touch.

"Bolly... Jesus, please, yer can't stop now..."

"Tell me whose you are, and I'll keep going," Alex whispered, sex dripping from each word as her palm squeezed his balls. Gene writhed, moaning gently, her cruel administrations enough to drive him crazy but not enough to tip him over the edge.

"I..."

"Come on, Gene..."

"I... am... bloody yours, you bloody sexy, magical, irritatin' woman!"

Alex beamed, her hand squeezing his member, easing up and down as Gene gave himself up to blissful oblivion, stars blinking and the aqua duvet shining in his blurred eyes as he came.

* * *

Maths always dragged. Always.

It was such a cruel irony, Molly reflected as she sat with her biro in her hand, the sheet of maths problems in front of her. When she was watching TV with Gene or shopping with her mum or dragging them to the cinema or the local pizzeria, time was as slippery as gas, it was gone before you really saw it. And when you were bored out of your skull, with no-one to laugh with or listen to policing stories from, it seemed to take an eternity, an entire pizzeria trip, an entire film, an entire TV programme or shopping trip, for just one second to pass.

Her maths teacher looked up, a frown on her face as she saw Molly staring vacantly at the clock. Catching Molly's eye, she mouthed, "Do you need some help?"

Another cruel irony. Her maths teacher was as sweet as Gene's tea, yet Molly could never enjoy her classes.

A knock on the door startled the girls, and most of them swerved to look: DI Ray Carling stood there, an awkward look on his face, his warrant card outstretched. At the back of the classroom, Catherine Finley slid down in her seat, covering her face with her hair.

"Need ter take Molly Drake outta yer class, madam. She's needed at Fenchurch East CID."

"Has something happened to Mum or Dad? Are they OK?"

Molly stood up, knocking her pencil case off the table as she did so, barely glancing down at it as she stooped to grab it and shoved it in her bag. Ray shook his head.

"Yer mum an' dad are fine, Molls. We, er, need yer in connection wi' a case. An incident that took place in yer street a couple o' days ago."

There was something amiss, Molly decided, but she didn't really mind going with the flow. After all, it got her out of maths. The relief on Catherine Finley's face was enough to make her giggle.

"Sorry, madam," Ray muttered to the maths teacher, who smiled, shaking her head.

"Not at all, er, DI Carling," she said sweetly, looking down at his warrant card and then back up at him. Ray smiled at her, watching as she reached out to guide Molly forwards with her eyes glued to his, watching him through thick eyelashes as Ray gave her a wink and steered Molly out towards the car, bustling her in and making sure to fasten the seatbelt as he headed back onto the main road. Molly sighed to herself, remembering what her mother had said: _"Ray Carling would flirt with a lamp-post if it had boobs."_

"So, what's this "incident", then?" she asked, wiggling her fingers, a perfect imitation of her mother. Ray winced.

"Er, yeah. We'll, er, fill yer in on that when we get in."

* * *

Molly's arrival in CID was greeted with a host of sheepish smiles from the people who quickly gathered around her, watching the young girl raptly as she plumped down on her mother's desk chair; with their keen gazes on her, Molly began to feel like the Pied Piper leading rather oversized children.

"So?" she asked, folding her arms, once again a faultless miniature DI Drake. Ray picked something up off Chris' table and tossed it over to her: a case file.

"We, er, needed ter know what..."

He leaned over her shoulder and pointed with a thick finger to one word in the file, the word "masticate".

"Shaz isn' in an' nor is DI Drake, an' our dictionary 'ad the Ms missin', so we, er- we needed ter know what it means."

Molly's mouth gaped open. The whole of Fenchurch East CID, with all its combined brainpower and resources, if half a dictionary could be called a resource, was reduced to calling on their DI's daughter in the absence of the academics of the office.

"It means "to chew"," she said slowly. "To eat something. If you masticate on a steak, you eat it."

CID's members looked round at each other, eyes wide, shuffling from foot to foot as Molly stood up.

"Is that all you needed?"

They nodded slowly. Chris gave an awkward giggle, which quickly died at the looks from his fellow officers.

"I'll take yer back ter school, then," Ray said quietly, picking his car keys up, both cheeks a glorious shade of red.

* * *

"Back so soon?"

"Molls co-operated very well," Ray said evenly, pushing Molly forwards gently. Her maths teacher smiled, directing Molly back inside.

"Well, thank you, DI Carling," she said gently, once again using Ray's full title. The man's chest swelled.

"That's OK, Miss, er...?"

"Terri," the woman murmured. "Terri Jamieson."

Ray grinned.

"No problemo, Terri."

And before either Molly or the maths teacher could react, Ray had gently taken the pen from Miss Jamieson's hand, eased her sleeve up and written his phone number on her arm.

"If yer fancy meetin' up," he said saucily, winking at her as he gave Molly a pat on the back and headed back to his car, almost skipping into the driver's seat as he slotted the keys in. Molly groaned silently, dumping her things on her desk and trying not to think how awkward it would be if her parents' colleague and good friend was going out with her maths teacher.


	7. Demons, Blaggers and Lots of Lettuce

Gene was finding it hard to breathe as he came down from the paradise that Alex had thrown him up into, gasping for breath as her laughter filtered into his ears. He frowned as it stopped, turning to look at her, seeing her face crease with annoyance.

"What?"

"Turn your head back and look at the ceiling again, just like you were doing before."

Huffing, with no idea what Alex was on about, Gene did as he was told, shifting back into his previous position and looking up at the ceiling, studying the pattern for a minute or so before looking back towards her. Her eyes were wide and happy, a little lost in the sight of him, flat on his back with a thin sheen of sweat covering him.

"What are yer lookin' at, woman?"

She grinned, leaning back happily, reaching over to toy with his hair, running her hand through it as her other hand grasped his in what, it had to be said, was a very romantic gesture.

"Just... you. Lying there looking like you haven't got a care in the world, and totally shagged out. Beautiful."

Gene swerved up to look at her, his eyebrows drawing together.

"I am not beautiful!"

"Yes, you are. It can describe anything. Man or woman. And you, whether you like it or not, Gene Hunt, are beautiful."

Gene attacked her suddenly, tickling her mercilessly as she gasped and screamed, the duvet pooling on the floor beside the bed as she shrieked at him to stop with no real conviction. His fingers were little spiders all over her skin and she swatted hopelessly at him, tears running down her elegant face as he paused to look at her, crying with delight, all the strain of life gone from her face, simple and pure and free of make-up, totally his.

"Mmm... my turn ter admire the view."

She met his eyes and smiled a beam he would never forget, pure love and happiness and security and contentedness, the grin of a woman who knew she was surrounded by adoration. And that she was, Gene thought joyfully, his arms wound round her perfect body as she pressed it against his, their skin sliding against each other in perfect harmony, singing the same tune.

"Oh God, Gene. Your ex-wife must have been mad to leave you."

And suddenly the spell was broken. Gene looked down, focusing on Alex's thigh, his arms becoming limp around Alex, who bit her lip, hating herself.

"Sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry. Ignore me."

"'S fine," he murmured. Alex, suddenly painfully aware that she didn't know the full picture behind the previous Mr and Mrs Hunt, berated herself angrily, reaching out to lift Gene's chin up, stroking along the sensitive skin, smiling gently as he shuddered at her touch.

"Suppose yer want ter know now, do yer?"

Alex shook her head.

"Not if you don't want to tell. All I know is you never had an affair throughout your marriage."

Gene sighed gently, focusing on Alex's hand as it curled round his, her thumb rubbing over the back of his hand as he forced himself to speak, in a flat, lifeless voice.

"1975. Marie 'ad a sudden sickness, an' we both thought the same thin': pregnant. So we went ter the clinic ter 'ave Marie looked at. Sure enough, she was a month gone. Absolutely overjoyed. Well, I was. Marie didn' want it. Said I shouldn' 'ave let it 'appen. She got angry wi' me. Pushed me against a cabinet, prob'ly 'arder than she meant ter. Sam noticed. Bloody Sam Tyler. Made me take my shirt off an' looked at the bruises. 'E said we needed ter talk, so I went 'ome. I found 'er upstairs. Blood everywhere."

Alex's grip on Gene's hand tightened.

"I rushed 'er ter the 'ospital, an' she told me ter try an' save the baby. She did want it after all. She'd talked ter 'er mother an' she'd decided she wanted ter be a mother after all. But it was too late. Too bloody late. She miscarried. A little girl, they said."

"Gene, I'm so sorry," Alex whispered, mortified at bringing the subject up and hating herself, leaning down to rub his leg under the sheets. His gaze found her movements, and he studied the soothing strokes of her hands for a while, closing his eyes before continuing.

"'S not yer fault. Anyway. Marie decided it was my fault, the stress o' the argument 'ad made 'er miscarry. From bein' furious about bein' knocked up, she went ter bein' livid about losin' the baby. Did she think I wasn' bloody miserable too? Tol' me it was all my fault. Tol' me ter get out. I tried ter reason with 'er, but she was adamant: out of 'er 'ouse. So I went ter the station an' slept there. It just went down'ill from there. I was beginnin' ter blame myself, all sorts o' what-ifs an' buts, drivin' myself mad, drinkin' the pub dry every night. Nelson refused ter serve me eventually, said 'e'd bar me if I didn' sort it out. Bloody stupid wonderful man. I lived wi' my mum fer a couple o' months before findin' a flat an' rentin' it. Marie came ter the station an' said she wanted me back, an' because I still bloody loved 'er I said yes. But it wasn' the same. None of it was. She left me fer a woman."

Alex rested her head on his shoulder, feeling the warm weight of his chin settling on her crown.

"Gene, you can't blame yourself. Miscarriages happen. One argument wouldn't cause that. It's not your fault."

She paused, feeling Gene's breathing evening, putting her hand on his chest to feel his pulse slowing at her touch.

"What did you call her?" she asked softly. Gene closed his eyes again.

"Alice. Same meanin' as mine. Noble. Mum suggested it."

Alex tilted her head to look up at him, seeing his tired face above her wild curls.

"It's a beautiful name. Beautiful name for a beautiful baby girl. With a dad like you, she would've been."

Gene simply nodded, the mixture of post-orgasmic lethargy and old demons and a long day catching up on him. All he'd ever seen of his baby girl had been the tiny foetus that hadn't even looked human. His Alice, the tiny, lilliputian, perfect, miraculous moulded bundle of flesh the doctor had shown him and Marie briefly before hustling her off to the morgue, faceless strangers milling around his daughter. He'd left the hospital too numb to even drink.

"Sleep," Alex whispered to him, pulling the duvet up over his cold skin, easing him down the bed, her fingers brushing against his manhood as she gave him a quick wink. He grinned back, distracted as she ducked her head under the duvet to examine him, her eyes gleaming as she popped her head back out, hair delightfully mussed.

"Fit for action in the morning, I think. Above and beyond the call of duty. You get some sleep, sir: don't want you too tired for my plans now, do we?"

Gene tried to will his crotch into submission at her words, the glint in her sparkling hazel orbs; suddenly, sleep seemed a long way away...

"Or we could 'urry those plans up," he growled in her ear, pulling her close, his hand slipping down to the apex of her legs. Alex gave a breathy, surprised gasp, her hips twitching up involuntarily, glaring at him for his snigger.

"Primed an' ready, ma'am... shall we begin the trainin'?"

She could never resist when he called her ma'am.

* * *

"I think Shaz's gone a little too far on this new diet," Chris sighed as he was served a plateful of lettuce, Shaz's craving for today. Molly, hoping they were overcooked, speared a forkful, giggling at Chris' look of disgust as Shaz murmured over to "eat up, baby" and began shovelling her own into her mouth, giving a little sigh of appreciation. Chris and Molly exchanged glances; Molly eased something out of her pocket and threw it to him when Shaz wasn't looking. Vouchers for a restaurant her mother had given her weeks ago to take a friend out with, only her friend had fallen ill and the dinner had been put on hold.

Excuses made, lettuce hidden and Molly primed with directions (and a loudspeaker she'd found under the stairs), the duo made a swift exit and a beeline for the Three Moons restaurant on the other side of Fenchurch, both devoutly hoping the dish of the day didn't feature lettuce.

After only getting lost three times, Chris' borrowed Renault drew up at the restaurant just in time for a window to break from the inside and someone to scream, the door flying open and shattering onto the brickwork, the hinges squealing like crucified cats as a man carrying a gun bolted through it and fled straight towards Molly and Chris.

It took a second to compute, but Chris eventually fumbled in his pocket for his warrant card, held it up and announced "Police! Give yerself up!" to the man, who promptly hit him in the head with the gun and made to swerve and run the other way. Molly grabbed hold of the door with both hands, pushing with all her might as the window frame collided with the blagger's stomach; with a loud "oof!" the man doubled up, giving Molly ample time to scramble from the car and knee him in the balls.

Chris' look of surprise told everything. Molly leaned down and prised the gun from the man's hands, speaking to him in an oh-so-innocent voice that she was sure made the man want to vomit.

"Now, now, that's hardly a good example to set a child, is it?"

God, she loved the 80s.

* * *

A/N: Apologies for lateness, I've had two RS exams and I have my English Lit tomorrow. Thought I'd write some of my own English literature to celebrate. xD Please review! Jazzola :)


	8. Not Enough Man Or Milk

A/N: My apologies if this isn't very good, but yesterday I had to go to hospital due to my ear healing literally over my stud. They had to take it out, so it hurts and I'm annoyed. I will also add that I am inexperienced with writing Galex arguments, and so it might not be brilliant. Ah well- read on and enjoy! Jazzola :)

* * *

"We've run out of milk."

It was such a domestic sentence that it caught Gene out for a second; he was busily towelling himself off from his shower, running the fabric over his legs in a soothing, long motion. Alex peeked through to see if he'd heard, watching as his leonine head tilted up at the movement; his broad body, the bright eyes, the firm frame tantalisingly close to six foot high, it all made her smile.

"Milk?"

"Yes. That stuff that comes out of cows."

Gene paused.

"That could be taken the wrong bloody way, Bolls."

Alex laughed, heading through to pick up one of his shirts from the floor where she'd thrown it, handing it to him and picking the Quattro keys up.

"Get dressed. I need my morning cup of tea."

Gene glanced over towards the clock, huffing and delving into his bag to find some underwear. He'd have been content to lie in bed for another few hours, just him and Alex, but she had a routine and she was a grumpy cow if she didn't get her daily caffeine boost. He didn't want them to start arguing quite yet. Although generally heated arguing led to heated making up, which then lead to heated sex...

"Gene! Get a bloody move on, I'm parched!"

_Oh, the joys of married life._

But when he arrived at the door and was greeted with the sight of his new wife and the gift of her soft lips pressing against his, the thought was banished pretty quickly.

* * *

"You've got to be careful with your face, baby, it's bleedin' again."

Chris snatched a tissue from the dining room table and started mopping at the cut on his cheek again. Molly raised her eyebrows at him from the sofa, curled up on the chocolate leather with a book and a plate of tagliatelle pasta from Luigi's. She had a newfound respect in CID after her escapades the night before; now all she had to say if they annoyed her was, "Remember that blagger I got?" and, remembering the state of his crown jewels after she'd finished with him, they'd slink away like reprimanded cats.

"'Ow's the little one doin'?" he asked as Shaz wiped blood from his neck, pressing his hand against his young wife's stomach. Shaz smiled, putting her other hand down to accompany his, squeezing his fingers as he bent to kiss Shaz's stomach, her squeals like a delighted puppy's. Molly resisted the urge to make sick noises.

As they played about, she was struck by a sudden thought: what if her mother conceived too, during the honeymoon? She doubed they'd be using protection, and even if they were, it might not work. What if her mum became pregnant? Would Gene want it? Would Alex want it? Would she want it? There would be so many complications- work, life in general, her- and she didn't know if it would work out. Surely Gene was too old to be having a baby now- he must be in his forties at least. Would they get angry? Split up? Would she be left with two parents she loved dearly living apart, barely even speaking to each other? Between them, they could split CID up from the middle outwards. That would be a disaster.

But then again, maybe they would want it. Maybe they would love it to happen, maybe it would bring them closer together, give them a reason to stay strong. Maybe she would love it too. It could be a good thing.

"Earth to Molls?"

"What?"

Molly looked up, snapped from her daydream by Shaz's fingers clicking under her nose, the woman herself smiling gently.

"You've got to get to school, madam. I'm drivin'."

Molly laughed at the look on Chris' face as Shaz sauntered past him, whipping the car keys from his fingers as she went, and headed outside to the newly repaired car.

* * *

"Don't they even 'ave a bloody Tesco?" Gene moaned, swinging the Quattro round yet another country lane and narrowly missing a lorry full of Highlands sheep. Ignoring the indignant bleating, Alex pulled her map out again, running her fingers over the local area.

"There's a shop somewhere, didn't we pass it on our way here? I think- if you just take a right- no, other right- there, found it."

"That's not a shop! That's some old bloody farmer sellin' what 'e scrapes off 'is cow's arse."

"Gene!"

"You said it yerself, Bolls."

"Well, I'm going in. You can stay here if you want, Eugene Hunt, but I am parched and I'm sure that whatever the _old bloody farmer _sells is better than nothing."

_Now I 'ave bloody wound 'er up. She 'asn' called me Eugene since she confirmed 'oo she was gettin' bloody married to._

"Bolls, I..."

It was too late. Alex was out and into the shop, brandishing her purse as she picked things off the shelves.

They drove back in silence. Alex was nursing a bottle of milk in her lap, ignoring the cold sheen of the glass on her skin, pervading her jeans as the Quattro eased onto the drive of the little cottage, growling in the pregnant muteness.

"There, wasn't so hard, was it?" Alex muttered as she got out, slamming the door. Gene's eyes narrowed.

"Calm down. Yer got what yer wanted, so now yer can 'ave yer tea an' maybe it'll bloody cheer yer up!"

"Oh yes, because all I need is a cup of tea and you're back in my good books! How wonderfully convenient for you! Such a soft touch, aren't I, like fluffy-wuffy Elaine Downing, coming onto you without a care in the world? You really do think you're God's gift to women, don't you?"

"All this over a cup of bloody tea! Get yer knickers untwisted, fer God's sake. What've I bloody done ter 'ave my ears bashed inter pulp?"

"What the bloody hell's that meant to mean? Is it so hard that I want a cup of tea in the morning instead of nothing? Ten times better than what comes out of you, because I doubt that anything you could produce could even so much as conceive any more! Maybe your wife had a point leaving you!"

Gene simply stood there, stupefied. Alex slowly realised what she'd done, her hand flying to her mouth, wishing she could shove her crude, hurtful comments back in, choke herself on her own cruelness.

"I..."

Gene looked away, opening his mouth jerkily, Alex's screaming like knives in his dry throat as he forced his words out, fists clenching with each syllable.

"Maybe yer 'ave got a point, Alex. Why don't you do the same? Go back ter yer little girl. I'm evidently not smart enough, or good enough, or _man _enough for yer. I don't know. Doesn't matter. I'll stay 'ere an' stew in my own shit, like I always do. You live yer life."

"Gene, I..."

It was too late. Gene had turned away to climb up towards the mountains, his wounded back oblivious to the tears dropping like blades from Alex's cheeks.

"GENE!"

The mountains echoed back her despair.


	9. Living Without Gene?

It had been six hours since Gene had stormed off. Alex had retreated to the house to dissolve into tears, punching her own stomach, the memory of her voice spiteful and unfeeling as it thundered round and round her skull. She'd eventually wiped her face, gone round the house to see if he was there and found herself the sole occupant, pulled on as many layers as possible, alerted the local police that he was missing, and headed out to find him.

The copse where they'd fallen over was deserted. She'd searched all of a good two mile radius around the cottage, screaming Gene's name to the wind, the tears scorching her cool flesh as they began to rain again. It was so cold, and he'd only been wearing a thin shirt and jeans; he could be hypothermic by now. What if he'd been injured? If he'd fallen? He could be lying somewhere crippled with pain, cursing her over and over, hurting inside and out. Her heart clenched. _No. Keep looking. Find him. Find him, Alex, damn you!_

"Gene? Please, Gene, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Please, Gene. Where are you? Gene? Gene!"

The wind tore her words back and forth, screaming in her ears as she sobbed, forcefully drying her tears.

_He could be anywhere. Absolutely anywhere. Oh God, Gene, I am so so so so sorry!_

With nothing else to do, she began singing, eyes streaming as she picked her way through the harsh ground. _The Jean Genie _and _Geno _were first; her voice increased in strength as she muddled through, freely improvising where she couldn't remember the lyrics, calling "Oh-oh-oh, Gen-o-o!" to the heavens and hopefully her husband, waiting for his return call, any sign of him at all.

"Alex?"

It was so faint she barely even heard it at all, but it stopped her dead in her tracks; she swerved immediately, running towards the sound, all but falling over her husband, sitting on the floor huddling into his thin clothing.

"Gene, oh God, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it, any of it, I was a total and utter cow, I'm so so sorry."

Gene shook his head, reaching out to touch her arm tentatively, as though he was afraid his touch would be shrugged off; she pulled him into a hug, sobbing into his shoulder, feeling his hands rubbing up and down her back as a police helicopter circled above. Gene tilted his head up to look at it, frowning as he rubbed Alex's back.

"Yer called the police?"

"I was worried sick, I thought you were injured or lost," Alex's muffled voice murmured from his shoulder.

"Yer daft bint. All this over a bottle o' milk."

Alex pulled back to look at her husband, seeing his eyes creased in amusement, holding onto her as though she was the most precious thing in the world. Slowly it dawned on her too, and she started laughing, leaning on his shoulder and giggling over and over again, feeling his chest shaking as he chuckled.

"Yer want a lift back t'yer cottage?"

They both looked up, the smiles still on their faces. One of the airmen was holding a pulley out to the pair, a smile on his own face that quickly turned to a frown when he saw Gene's attire.

"Yer frozen, sir. Nice an' warm in the 'elicopter."

Gene and Alex exchanged looks, still beaming, and tried to use each other to stand up, resulting in both of them falling over again. The airman rolled his eyes.

* * *

"Any news?"

Ray was radioing the police station in Scotland again for the third time that hour, Chris sitting next to him worrying at his lower lip and Shaz typing so furiously on her typewriter her fingers blurred. News had filtered through that one Gene Hunt had been reported missing, and ever since Fenchurch East CID had been tuned in to Scottish police radio, waiting for anything to come in.

"Look, DS Carlin', if we 'ear anythin' we'll radio yer, OK?" the resigned Scottish accent on the other end replied, sounding incredibly weary. Ray had been pestering him for about five hours now; he was really beginning to regret signing up for today's radio duty.

"Look, mate, our DCI's bloody missin' on some moor when 'e's meant ter be 'avin' 'is 'oneymoon an' we want 'im found, OK?" Ray hissed back, missing the point somewhat. The Scotsman groaned lightly.

"We've got the 'elicopter out on the _mountains_, an' several teams lookin' fer 'im. We can't do anythin' more without gettin' bloody MI5 in. OK?"

Ray gnashed his teeth, sitting back in his chair and tapping a chewed biro against the side of the desk to the tune of 'Danny Boy', snarling at Chris as he picked his tea up wonkily and slopped it over his lap.

"Oh, baby, you OK?" Shaz called, leaping up to get him some tissues and grabbing Chris' locker key to fetch some fresh trousers amid the sniggering from the other DCs. A crackle on Ray's radio stopped her in her tracks as the Scottish accent came through again.

"Ray?"

Ray glanced up at the doorway, seeing Molly, who had been holing herself up in an interview room for two hours to escape his constant transmissions and increasingly irritable replies to and from Scotland.

"Yer got somethin'?"

"The 'elicopter team 'ave found yer DCI an' they've told us 'e's fine, a bit cold an' de'ydrated but nothin' a mug o' tea an' a warm 'ouse won't fix. OK?"

Molly squealed, running over to her mother's desk to grab the phone there and dial the cottage as Ray unceremoniously thanked the radio operator (who sounded very glad to be shot of him) and Shaz headed out to fetch Chris' spare pair of trousers. Chris decided to finish off the cup of tea.

* * *

Alex would have been perfectly content just to stand there and watch Gene all day.

He was curled up under the aqua duvet of their shared bed, dozing lightly with a newspaper held lightly in his limp fingers, huddled in a thick jumper and joggers. She'd been all for taking him to hospital to be checked out there, but he'd refused and so she'd carted him back to the cottage and done her best to warm him up and get some liquids into him. Five cups of tea (and countless teaspoons of sugar), a huge glass of water and a couple more layers of clothing later and he'd dozed off, only saying in an off-hand voice that the milk wasn't that bad. She'd just laughed.

The phone abruptly shrilled through the silence, startling Alex and jerking Gene awake; he yelled, thrashing the covers off before realising that it was the phone and colouring slightly. Alex raised her eyebrows at her recovering husband, picking the phone up.

"Hello?"

"Mum? Is Dad there? Is he OK? He's not too cold or too dehydrated or in hospital, is he? Only Ray said they had the helicopter out and everything and the mountains are really cold and Gene's been missing for six hours and they said something about him needing hospital treatment and-"

"Molls, let me get a word in edgeways!"

Molly fell silent, eagerly awaiting her mother's news.

"Look, Gene and I had a row, he stormed off and I headed back into the house. I thought he'd come back, he didn't so I reported him missing and went out to search for him, since he hadn't got much in the way of clothing and it'd been a while. I found him, the helicopter found both of us, and I said Gene should go to hospital but he said he felt fine, so we just came back to the cottage to warm him up and get him something to drink. OK?"

"Can I speak to him?"

"Give it 'ere, then," Gene said, reaching out for the handset and squeezing Alex's fingers briefly before taking the phone. Alex smiled, leaning down to kiss his forehead as he spoke to Molly, reassuring her that he was fine and it wasn't going to happen again. Alex laughed at Molly's strict reply of "No, I shouldn't think so!"; Gene wondered if he'd ever be allowed out of his daughter's sight again.

* * *

A/N: Apologies for the delay, this was actually written a little while ago but I kept forgetting to put it up- I know, bad girl. Please review, I seem to be lacking in them at the moment! Thanks for reading. Jazzola :) PS: RIP Sambuca Kelly from Waterloo Road- my all-time favourite character. Why did she have to be written out? :(


	10. Learning to Love, Hurrying to Grieve

As Molly finally rang off, Gene felt guilt nagging at his stomach for his shenanigans throughout the day. Yes, Alex had been the one to make the remarks that still stung his thoughts every time he recounted them, words he shuddered to even allude to, but after that it had been his doing: going off on his own in clothes he, a Northern man, should have realised were nowhere near suitable for the temperatures he would be subjecting himself to; getting himself lost in the Highlands; and, of course, starting it all off, over-reacting about a simple request for some milk. _Christ's sake, yer stupid twat, couldn't yer 'ave just got the bloody milk without 'avin' ter insult 'er an' drive 'er mad inter the bargain? That's supposed ter be 'er job, drivin' people up the wall, not yours!_

As she slid into bed next to him and wrapped her slender arm round his stomach, purring with contentment and relief that his body temperature seemed to have returned to normal, he tugged her into a bear hug and held her close, resting his chin on her head, breathing in the scent of jasmine and rose and wood polish and mint toothpaste he held so dear. She didn't question him, much to his tired relief, simply held him back and pressed her lips to his clavical, trailing them up his neck, feeling his breathing hitching under her mouth and smiling devilishly onto his suddenly slightly warm skin.

"You know what they say, Gene... angry, intense rows lead to angry, intense making-up, and angry, intense sex..."

He swerved to look at her, eyes glittering, his mouth curling into a smile.

"I dunno... feelin' pretty whacked after all the excitement..." he murmured, faking a yawn, snaking his hand round to her hip as he did so and pinching her smooth skin, feeling her jump slightly.

"In that case, perhaps we'll make it something a little less taxing... sweet, passionate, tender sex?"

He ducked his head to meet her lips, brushing his mouth over hers and leaving her face tingling.

"I suppose, if it's on offer..."

And then he captured her in a kiss so passionate breathing became unimportant, life shrank into the shadows, all there was was Gene and his laughing heartbeat and his loving caress and the electricity zinging throughout her body, exquisiteness and adoration and devotion and something so- alien- that Alex only realised what it was when he was inside her, rocking them both back and forth, his eyes brilliant with unshed tears of happiness and chastisement, his everything her and her universe him.

It was confusion. Confusion at what, she couldn't tell or guess.

* * *

None of them knew the exact time when it happened.

Molly was watching TV with Chris, both of them tuned in to _High Noon_, Molly beginning to want cowboy boots and Chris about to doze off, lacking both the stamina and enthusiasm of the young woman he was caring for.

And then a thump came from the kitchen.

At first, Molly thought Shaz had dropped something, perhaps a pot or something, and was about to pick it up. But that theory was swept away when nothing else happened.

The little noises that Shaz made moving about were also gone.

Molly strained against the silence, pausing the film and nudging Chris awake, standing up and calling Shaz's name towards the too-silent kitchen.

"Shaz? Shaz, are you OK?"

When she got no answer, Molly tugged a now wide awake Chris to his feet and headed towards the kitchen, almost tripping over the leg she found in the doorway.

_"SHAZZA!" _Chris screamed, flinging himself onto the floor before Molly could take in any of what was going on. Shaz was lying by the kitchen table, completely motionless, slumped on the immaculate wooden floors.

"I'll get an ambulance," Molly gasped, bolting into the dining room and snatching the phone from the Welsh dresser, dialling with fingers that were trembling so much she dropped the handset twice, stammering out Chris and Shaz's address in a voice that shook as much and felt as delicate as a twig in a hurricane.

As soon as she was assured they were on their way, Molly was running back through to Chris and the prone Shaz, grasping the young woman's hand as Chris kissed her, tears running down his face and onto his young wife's pale skin and jet black hair, sobbing freely and devoid of shame, whispering to Shaz how much he loved her, for her to come back to him, not to leave him, that she would be OK, that the baby would be OK too, to please please _please _wake up, that he couldn't imagine a world without her or his child.

Molly could only sit back and watch Chris grieve for his wife and baby before they were even lost.

* * *

Gene was showering.

Alex watched him from the doorway, knowing he was totally oblivious to her being there, smiling at his naked, impressive form behind the shower door. One soapy hand reached up to grab the shower gel and she imagined him stroking down her own body with those long, moist fingers, suds trailing along her breasts and stomach, teasing her beautifully as they slowly reached their target, drying themselves on her pubic hair, using the dark curls like his own personal towel before...

"Yer know what? I'm still bloody bewildered."

His voice shook her from her X-rated thoughts; knees trembling slightly, she rested against the doorway, her heart suddenly racing from a combination of what Gene had just said and the erotic fantasy.

"I mean, yeah, women fling themselves at the Gene Genie's feet, 'ave done ever since 'is spots cleared up at fifteen. An' a few before that."

Alex rolled her eyes.

"But after a bit o' flirtin' an' a shag, it wasn' anythin'. Just a pretty face fer both me an' 'er. An' I didn' know what was wrong with me. Tried ter marry ter get rid o' that... kidded myself I loved 'er. Told everyone as such. But it was more like 'avin' my best friend as a wife an' carer. She just wasn' the woman I'd wished ter fall fer."

Alex's eyebrows drew together, worry beginning to worm into her chest. Was he going to say that...?

"But Bolly- she just redrew all the boundaries soon as I bloody met 'er. An' she seemed ter make somethin' new possible, seemed ter bring somethin' else... put somethin' in me. An' not just 'er tongue, enjoyable as that is. She... I dunno. Changed me. Changed my bloody brain. Changed everythin' apart from my bloody name. An' it scares me an' excites me an' confuses me an' I just don' know which way is up any more. Maybe never will again. An' what makes me confused is that I don't know 'ow she bloody did it."

Alex's heart had been growing increasingly lighter and bubblier throughout his little speech; as he trailed off, a little voice in her head told her the answer to his query. She licked her lips, raising her voice as Gene turned the water off, staring at the dripping walls.

"It's because you learned to trust me."

Gene's head snapped round, almost losing his balance as he started and grabbed the door for support.

"Jesus, Bolls, first yer took my bloody 'eart an' now yer tryin' ter stop it!"

But the mood was far too deep for banter, and his face didn't match the words tumbling more by habit than by conscious thought from his mouth. Alex moved closer to him, opening the door, closing the eyes as the steam bathed her in a swathe of warmth, feeling his hands, still wet from the shower, reach round her body and simply hold her, as though she was a priceless, timeless treasure, there to be savoured and protected, other-worldly.

"You learned to let the barriers you'd put up down. You wouldn't let anyone in for fear of getting hurt, because you've been hurt too many times to name in the past. You learned that there are people who just want to do what's right for you, like me and Molly. And overall, you learned that love doesn't have to be dangerous, or all about sex. It can be about waking up next to someone and simply lying there and savouring the moment, or stroking someone's hair back and kissing their crown, or holding them after they've had a scare, or giving them a lift to something and just enjoying their close proximity to you. You learned what life and love are really about, and that meant that I could love you and you could love me back. And you did it all yourself, with me just there to keep up the kick up the arse that Sam Tyler started. That's how, Gene."

She looked up at him, and as he bent his head to hers, water too happy to have come from the shower smiled down his cheeks.

The phone shrilled somewhere in the distance, and both groaned, looking into each other's eyes with a new depth behind their gazes, beauty beyond the grasp of any magazine. Gene wrapped the towel round his midriff and ran into the hallway to get the call, murmuring to Alex to get them both something to drink, anything but milk, and just catching her giggle as he left.

Alex was just pouring the orange squash she'd found in the fridge into two glasses when Gene walked in and pulled a chair out for her, sitting down heavily in the one opposite it. She frowned at him, her eyes widening as he lifted his head, the familiar pain in his eyes.

"Shaz. She's collapsed. She's prob'ly goin' ter lose the baby."

Alex's legs buckled like a wounded deer, and as he caught her and tried to soothe her Gene discovered something new that love was about.

Comforting the one you love when your own heart feels like it's being ravaged by hellfire.

* * *

A/N: Sorry! :L I hope you don't hate me too much... anyway, please please please review, I hope you enjoyed it, and more ASAHP! Jazzola :)


	11. Oh

Molly handed Shaz yet another tissue as the young woman howled into her shoulder, clad in an uncomfortable hospital robe and perched on the edge of the bed, her bare feet an inch from the floor, Chris rocking her gently as he sat beside her. His own eyes were drowning in tears, but he refused to let them fall, trying so hard to be brave for Shaz that it made Molly's heart ache. She could remember her mother doing this for her so many times, after her dad had left, when her Granny Marjorie had had a heart attack and was critically ill in hospital, when she had first arrived here in the 80s; now the roles were reversed, and Shaz was the one desperately needing comfort and support, Molly the grave carer. Chris was too numb to do anything but hold Shaz, soothe her, close his eyes to hide his torment from her.

Shaz's rounded belly brushed against Molly's hand, and she shut her own eyes tight, refusing to believe that the tiny life held within could be gone. A tiny, smooth, barely human being resided in that scarred stomach, a human being she had talked to, envisaged, fallen in love with before it was even born- Molly would not let this baby die. She had said it to Gene after the disaster with the post office robbery: she would not let anyone else she loved die ever again, not if she could help it.

"Molls?"

Shaz hiccuped, turning distraught eyes to the young girl, giving the ghost of a smile as Molly squeezed her hand, nodding.

"Could you go an' get me some water?"

Molly nodded, turning to head out to the water fountain, feeling her own steps so sensitively on the bleak floor that she could have sworn there'd been something in that Coke she'd had. The touch of her worn trainers on the dull, grubby floor, the gentle squeak as they slid, the pressure and release, pressure and release, endless. The door handle was sleek and unforgiving under her fingers, tepid and tense, brushing away from her as she found herself out in the corridor, the bleeping of Shaz's ECG monitor fading gradually away.

Shaking, Molly fell into a chair and allowed the sobs to rack her body, burying her head in her arms and shrieking in the deserted passageway, craving Gene's gentle hold and her mother's loving embrace, gasping as salt tears seeped through her sleeve and onto her goosepimpled skin.

Eventually, she dried her tears, filled a cup of water from the fountain, and pushed the door back open, not seeing the doctor facing Chris and Shaz, his face morose, holding a clipboard and several pieces of paper in his hands.

Molly's pulse froze.

"I'm sorry. You've lost the baby."

* * *

Alex didn't remember why she had tear tracks on her face at first as she woke up, wrapped in Gene's arms on the sofa, feeling his chest swell and sink beneath her cheek. She briefly wondered if they were tears of euphoria, kissing Gene's skin through the button holes on his pyjamas, hearing his sleepy murmur before he dropped off again. She turned away, her eyes finding the small telephone on the hall table.

And then it all came back to her, and it was all she could do to stumble to the bathroom before she was sick.

"'Ey, 'ey, careful, love. 'S OK. I've got yer."

Alex shivered back into Gene's careful arms, feeling his dishevelled hair brush her cheek, rage filling her at Shaz's misfortune.

"OK? Bloody OK? WHAT THE HELL WOULD YOU KNOW, YOU STUPID MAN?"

She turned, fuelled by adrenaline and fury and sickness, and punched Gene's chest over and over, tears stinging from her eyes, feeling her anger fill her, burst, slowly drain away. Gene simply stood there, letting her, closing his eyes as she dealt him blow after blow, pulling her into his arms as she stopped, feeling her wailing into his shoulder as he rocked her from side to side, kneeling on the floor of the little bathroom with his face buried in her hair, shaking his head as she whispered "sorry" over and over again into his neck.

"'S OK. Shh. 'S OK."

"I'm so so sorry, Gene," she gasped, pulling back to look at his bruised skin, the marks of her impacts bright and heady. "Oh God, oh Gene, I am so sorry... look what I've done- oh God, lock me up, I've assaulted you. God, I'm so sorry."

"Bolly, shh. It's fine. I've got yer. It's OK."

Alex's tears dribbled onto his flesh, and he resisted the urge to wipe her sorrow off him, opting instead to hold her close until she was back to almost normal, her eyes glossy and red but dry, her breath shuddering but deep.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, picking the both of them up and turning Gene round to get a better look at his bruises, hissing through her teeth at the state of his skin. "I'm so sorry."

"Bolls, it's fine. I've 'ad worse off Molls."

Alex snuffled a smile, and then gasped.

"Molls! Is she OK? Where is she?"

"Relax, Bolls. Ray said 'e'd take care of 'er if Chris an' Shaz couldn'."

They stood together, Gene's arms once again surrounding Alex as she leaned into his body, moulding to his form as he tightened his grip on her.

"Do we know yet, if she...?"

She gestured helplessly, unable to finish the sentence. Gene shook his head slowly.

"They said they'd call when they knew. Bolls, if she 'as- you know- we 'ave ter go back. They'll need us an' so we 'ave ter be there."

"We can book another holiday to finish this one off," Alex said gently, looking straight into his eyes, surrounded by tranquillity, uncertainty and bruised hope. "If they need us, we're going home."

Gene nodded jerkily.

"Shaz's a bloody good officer," he whispered into her hair, feeling her hand on his back, rubbing tender circles over his cool skin. "Don't want ter lose 'er."

Alex gave a faint murmur of assent, knowing this was Gene's emotion-avoiding, caring-Neanderthal way of saying that he really didn't want Shaz to get hurt.

"And what would Chris do?" she wondered out loud, feeling Gene stiffen.

"We'll 'ave ter be there fer them. Both of us. They'll need both of us."

And Gene and Alex Hunt stood together in the little bathroom, mourning the loss of Shaz and her baby before they were even lost.

* * *

Shaz didn't move. Didn't breathe. Didn't cry or scream or sob. Didn't let her heart beat.

Molly sank to the floor and stared at the linoleum.

"We... we... we've lost... baby...?" Chris whispered, doing his best to form a coherent sentence. The doctor nodded.

"Yes. I'm sorry, Mr and Mrs Wilkins."

Shaz's head snapped up so suddenly her neck clicked; she didn't seem to realise, simply narrowing her eyes.

"We're not Mr and Mrs Wilkins. We're Mr and Mrs Skelton."

"Oh."

The doctor stood for a second, blinking at the couple on the bed, and hurriedly flipped some forms over on his clipboard, flicking through his papers as Shaz remembered how to breathe and Chris remembered how to talk.

"Here we go! Sorry. Um, your baby is fine, Mrs Skelton, just a bit of an issue with blood pressure. We can give you some medication and instructions for keeping your blood pressure down and you and the baby will be fine."

Shock, amazement, joy and annoyance were battling on Shaz's face as she struggled to keep her temper in check. The doctor gave a nervous chuckle.

"Ah. I- er- whoops. Um... well, you'll laugh about this in ten years, won't you?"

The unimpressed looks from both Chris and Shaz told him the opposite.

"Er, um, sorry."

He turned tail and ran, leaving the threesome together, staring at each other, brimful of happiness.

"Group hug!"

* * *

A/N: Lol, I couldn't resist that! Hope not too many people had cardio issues with this chapter... anyway, please please please review! Thanks for reading! Jazzola :)


	12. One Child Safe, One Child Mourned

Gene wondered if it was possible to pass out from nerves.

He'd never been a nervous person, preferring to face things head on and with his bravado and swagger clutched round him like a shield. People said he was brave; it was more a refusal to feel afraid, worried, vulnerable. Walking into a building to find out who the traitor of CID was had been the closest thing to nerves he'd felt since about 1973, and nobody could blame him for being a little jumpy when he was about to be locked up and his arsehole destroyed for a murder he didn't commit.

But right now, sitting on the dishevelled sofa with Alex biting her manicured nails in his arms, he realised he was incredibly nervous, tremendously worried, and certainly vulnerable. If you wanted to be specific, he was absolutely petrified.

Alex turned to press her face into his neck; Gene held her closer, murmuring sweet nothings in her ear and praying she couldn't see the look on his face. A finger snuck up to press against his neck, and he frowned, pulling her back to see her expression.

"Your heart's racing," she murmured, her fingers cool against his racing pulse point. Gene rolled his eyes, flicking her fingers away and enveloping them in his hand instead, lying her back down and focusing on a trailerful of sheep being unloaded in the field next to the house.

"Coffee."

They both knew it was a lie, but Alex let the point go, not in the mood to give Gene the "emotions-don't-make-you-a-poofter-and-it's-OK-to-show-them" lecture.

"Molls said she'd ring at eleven, once they know if she's- if she's-"

Alex's voice cracked, its delicate frequency shattering as she buried her head back in Gene's chest, sobbing. She felt his hands on her back, soothing her, heard his gentle voice rumbling through his flesh, echoing off his ribcage, all for her. He wasn't taking the piss, he wasn't making fun of her or teasing her or calling her unflattering nicknames, he was just there to hold her and comfort her and make her feel human again. _My very own Genie. Complete with a million wishes. _Her finger found his wedding ring, the one she'd picked out, drawn the design for with a little help from Molly; it was a genie's lamp with a lion springing forth, bursting from the cracked lamp with its mane thick and wild but its expression proud and content. The lion's fur was emblazoned with the letter G. She'd been tempted to make it an E- E for Eugene- but when he'd grumpily informed her that the last person to call him Eugene had been a doctor twelve years ago whom he'd ended up punching she'd stuck with the G.

"Whassa time?"

"You're the one with the watch."

"Wouldn' 'ave asked if I could actually read it. Yer the one clutchin' my 'and."

Alex blinked, rubbing the tears off on Gene's shirt as she sat up slightly, giving him a tremulous pixie grin as he fingered the stains, rolling his eyes.

"You're washin' this."

"The washing machine's washing it. And you'll be helping out with the laundry, you skive off with Molls one more time and I'll be heading into that nice shop in Fenchurch where they sell chastity belts."

She tilted his wrist, stroking a scar on the back of his hand as she focused on the face.

"Five to eleven."

Gene's stomach did a somersault, closely followed by a loop-the-loop and a drop into his tatty slippers. For a minute he wondered if he was going to throw up, but the moment passed and he held onto his breakfast.

"'S it good news if they 'aven't phoned yet?" he murmured, watching the phone. Alex smacked his arm.

"Shut up, Gene."

"Ow! Was just sayin'!"

He pulled himself out from underneath her and stood up, pacing the room impatiently, a lion in his cage. His slippers scuffed against the floor, a rhythm working its way into Alex's head, and she huddled into herself to compensate for the loss of Gene's warmth, closing her eyes as the _slap-brush-slap-brush _echoed through the emotional air.

RING-RING. RING-RING.

Gene was the first to recover from the shock; both had been anticipating the ring so much it was a jolt when it actually came. Trying to hide the slight shake of his fingers, he snatched it up, his and Alex's argument forgotten as he raised the receiver to his ear.

"Molls?"

"She's OK!" squealed an over-excited, relieved voice down the line. "Shaz and the baby are fine, it was just a bit of an issue with blood pressure, they said Shaz needs to change her lifestyle a bit but she'll be fine."

"Yer sure? Yer sure she'll be OK?"

"Yeah! Totally sure!"

Alex snatched the phone, laughing with joy and relief, pulling Gene into a hug as he stood motionless, frozen in time, the curve to his mouth slipping away and disappearing, his wide eyes darkening as the shutters closed.

Without another word to Alex, he walked out of the room, silent and morose.

In his wake, the smile dropped from Alex's face, a tear sliding from her eyelashes; whether it was one of relief or sadness, not even she knew.

* * *

The mood in the car on the way home was jubilant, joy flowing from the inhabitants like water from a stream. Molly couldn't stop laughing, singing along with the radio, making up dance moves for 'Eye of the Tiger' with Shaz and secretly stealing 'This Is How We Party' from S.O.A.P. as they neared the house. It fitted, anyway; when they arrived, she and Shaz were belting out "This is how we do it when somebody wanna turn you down, you got to keep on moooo-vin'!" with such glee in their voices that Bucks Fizz would have fainted.

Shaz stuck her new routine to the fridge, along with the due date she'd been given for the baby: 12th November this year. On their way home, she'd outlined it with hearts, kisses and smiley faces, doodling so much the paper crackled if you so much as brushed it; Chris kissed her hand as she placed the magnet on top of it, pulling her into a gentle hug as she wrapped her arms round him, happy and safe.

Molly left them to it, allowing them to revel in their delight in peace, retreating to her little room and the book of baby names, left open at A. She quite liked Alice for a name, but when she'd mentioned it to her mother over the phone she'd been told Gene wasn't too keen on it, which had somewhat dampened her enthusiasm. Her step-father was a moody man at the best of times, and it didn't take much to tip him from contentedness to misery, so she'd quietly ringed it with a question mark by the side and left it for Shaz and Chris to decide on.

She looked round at the picture of the three of them together on her bedside table, in the snow earlier that year; Gene exuded a quiet happiness, his arm round Alex and a smile on his face, the look of a man utterly in love who can't quite yet believe it is reciprocal. Alex herself looked as though she would never be surrounded by anything so precious, with one arm hugging Molly tight and the other round Gene's waist, tucked into his jeans pocket out of sight of the camera. Molly herself was midway through a snow angel, her parents knelt either side of her, snow in her hair and coating her clothes as she laughed with bliss, encompassed by protection and safety and love and in her very own wonderland. She smiled. _Alice in Wonderland. _Somehow she just knew the name would fit if Shaz had a little girl. Maybe Gene would come round? It even meant the same as his name: noble. She'd looked it up after Chris had said that if they were having a boy, his middle name would be Eugene, after the man who had inadvertantly brought him and Shaz together; Gene had pretended to shrug it off, muttering that Eugene was a duff name to lumber a baby with, but the honour had shone in his face when he thought nobody was looking.

Molly yawned, the stress and effort of the last few hours catching up with her. A cat nap would be a good idea, and Shaz had warned that they had chilli con carne for dinner; if she fell asleep in that, things could get very sticky indeed. A mental image of Dorothy Pennington-Smythe, the previous Super's lover, with her face covered in horse poo that day at the races came into Molly's head, and she snorted back a slightly delirious laugh, huddling under the bedclothes in her jeans and Queen T-shirt.

Sleep came swiftly, a blessed relief.

* * *

Alex found Gene in the utility room, staring out at the mountains with his hair surrounding his face, leaving his features in obscuring shadow, hiding from the midday sun. He shrugged her off when she touched him, his body language firmly telling her he'd like to be alone; she left him to battle his demons, going through into the kitchen to cut some sponge cake for herself and munching with half a smile on her face, her heart feeling physically lightened by the good news.

What was Gene's problem? Surely he wasn't upset that Shaz hadn't lost the baby?

"Gene, sweetheart, I can't help you if you won't talk to me," she called through into the utility, hovering in the doorway of the kitchen as she waited for her answer, a second piece of sponge cake on a plate in her hands. A minute passed, and she wondered if she would actually receive an answer, but just as she moved away his voice came through, cold and distant, quiet and beaten.

"What if I didn' ask fer yer 'elp?"

"I'm your wife. You don't have to ask for my help, Gene."

Chancing her arm, she entered the room, putting the sponge cake down by the back door. Gene turned away again as she touched him, stiffening as she hugged him, moulding her body to his as he refused to do so for her.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"Yer wouldn' understand. I'm a cold-'earted bastard. Yer better off divorcin' me."

"Gene...?"

His pulse sped up slightly, and she could feel it, hammering against her eardrums as she rested her cheek on his chest. Gene tilted his head sideways to accommodate her, the first move he had made to welcome her since she'd held him; one tiny victory.

"I care so bloody much fer 'em. My team. More of a family than my own flesh an' blood were."

"Who is this about? Your blood family, or Marie?"

Gene closed his eyes, almost as though they were hurting him, as though he didn't feel worthy of the gift of sight; Alex clutched him tighter.

"Marie. I loved my team more than I loved 'er. The people 'oo I shared an office with, 'oo 'ad no other bloody relation ter me other than they saw me a few days I week, were more important ter me than my own wife, the mother of my bloody child. Took me a few years ter realise it, but it was true. Christ... I put 'er through so much, wi' Alice an' everythin', an' what did I bloody give 'er? The square root o' Jack Shit."

"Gene, it takes two to split a couple. Your team has to be important to you- what kind of DCI doesn't care about the people in his department? They have to be your friends, your colleagues, your workmates, otherwise the whole thing falls apart. Marie made some mistakes, you both did, from the sounds of it. It's not your fault. You can't force yourself to love someone, no matter how fond you are of them. It just comes. Hell, I fought loving you tooth and nail when I first got here, but look what I ended up with when I accepted it: a loving, wonderful husband and my little girl safe and happy. She put you through a hell of a lot too. Alice- what happened to her- wasn't either of your fault. Emotions ran high, they always would in that situation. You can't blame yourself."

Gene sniffed.

"Was it my fault, Alex? That she miscarried?"

"No."

"But 'ow would you know?"

"Then how would you know it was your fault? It takes more than an argument to cause a miscarriage, Gene. It wasn't your fault."

He looked down at his feet, brilliant eyes screwed up in pain. Alex touched his shoulder.

"It wasn't your fault. Trust me, Gene."

His whole body suddenly relaxed, as though the weight of the universe had been removed, his form losing ten years of stress and strain; as he looked at her, his eyes gleamed, their familiar sparkle bright and back. Alex choked back tears of happiness, squeezing him hard, feeling his arms encircle her, sensing his beam.

He leaned down to whisper in her ear, his voice feather light, love infused into each syllable and each decibel, his words uplifted by the curve of his lips.

"Take me ter bed, Alex Hunt."

* * *

A/N: I am so sorry for the delay! Two weeks in Germany plus writer's block equals naughty Jazzy. Quick disclaimer: I don't own 'This Is How We Party' by S.O.A.P., or its lyrics. I'm just borrowing them, and I promise to give them a wipe over and put them away tidily when I'm finished with them. Please remember to review, and thanks for writing! Jazzola :D PS: REVIEW!


	13. Unwelcome Bedmates

Their love-making was frenzied, almost desperate, as though they were finding a sanctuary beyond Earth in each other, a life, a shared soul; both gasped in pain more than once, but as they exploded together the discomfort dissolved into two beautiful bodies, each clutching the other like drowning men, seeking comfort from the simple warmth of each other, the solid presence. Despite the early hour, Gene sank into sleep as soon as his breathing had returned to normal, his head resting on Alex's chest.

"Sleeping Lion," Alex whispered as she recovered somewhat, her body still tingling with the aftershocks from her intense orgasm as she stroked her new husband's hair, her fingers tangling in his mane, finding hot, sweaty skin, knots in the smooth blond mop, a scratch and a spot of blood from their mutual passion.

"Sorry," she murmurd, a little chastised as she took in the scratches down his naked shoulders, running her fingers over them and whipping them away as Gene shifted restlessly, mumbling nonsense before settling and sleeping again. The phone ringing distracted Alex from soothing him, and she swore fluently, wondering at herself as she slid quietly out and headed down the hall nude to answer the phone. _Gene's rubbing off on me. In more ways than one... stop it, naughty girl!_

"Hello?"

"Ma'am?"

"Shaz! What is it? Is Molly OK? How're you?"

Shaz huffed briefly down the line, stopping abruptly at a shout from behind them; Alex frowned.

"We've got a bloke 'oo says 'e's goin' to throw 'imself off a buildin' 'ere, an', er, I was wonderin' what we could say to 'im to get 'im to come down... 'e's sayin' if the courts don't let 'im see 'is children 'e'll die. They just passed an order sayin' 'e can only see 'im with a social worker present, so 'e's sayin' 'e'll kill 'imself, an' well, Ray's been put in charge an' frankly 'e couldn' talk a child out o' eatin' their vegetables, so I thought you might be able to 'elp?"

Alex smothered the grin on her face at the thought of a scowling little girl defiantly munching broccoli as her DS watched with a face as long as a beagle's.

"Well. Tug on his heartstrings. Tell him how much better off his children are with him there, and tell him you'll appeal the decision, you can get him a good solicitor who'll present his case- emphasise how much every child needs their father." Alex felt a pang in her own chest as she spoke, the Clown winking murderously in her mind's eye. "Be human, Shaz. Tell him how life could be if he comes down from there."

"Thanks, ma'am. Is it OK if I do the talkin'?"

"Inform DS Carling that you are to be hostage negotiator, orders of his superior officer. As much as Ray's charms might work on a poor innocent maths teacher, they won't work on a potential suicide unless he's both gay and utterly desperate."

"Oi!"

Evidently Shaz had handed the phone over- or lost the phone- while Alex had been talking. Alex resisted the urge to laugh.

"Look, Ray, no offence. I'm exaggerating. Think of it as Shaz becoming more experienced- we both know your skills lie in detecting and being out on the streets, not in psychology. I've been tutoring Shaz, she knows what to do, she can reach him in a way that you probably can't."

"I'm goin' fer a coffee. Tell the Guv when yer next see 'im that whatever 'appened ter 'is darts 1979 trophy, it wasn' me an' Chris."

The line went dead. Alex rolled her eyes, putting the handset back down as Gene limped out from the bedroom, bollock naked and bloodied in the bright morning light.

"Yer a bloody wildcat, Bolly. Think I deserve bloody compensation. Victim protection."

"Well then, Mr Hunt, I think you'd better submit an official request for compensation. Follow me," Alex replied in her most authoritative tone, straightening up and beckoning into the kitchen, motioning for Gene to go through first. He watched her through narrowed eyes, snatching a towel from the open bathroom door and tying it round his waist as he walked through, leaning against the counter, his eyes not leaving her for a second. Alex stood in front of him, hands on her smoothly-curved hips, her eyes dancing with amusement.

"Right then. What's your complaint?"

"I've been assaulted," Gene said in a quiet voice, playing along and hoping to discomfort Alex, holding out his scratched arms and motioning to the nail marks on his torso. "Need protection, please, Mrs Officer, yer see, it was a domestic, an' I know yer don't think they're all that bad, but look at me, I can't go back there, I just can't!"

Alex raised her eyebrows, impressed at her DCI's acting skills; at the sight of his wide, innocent eyes, a throbbing started between her thighs. _I could get used to a bit of role play..._

"Calm down, Mr Hunt, you're safe now," she purred, slinking over to him and putting a hand on his shoulder, easing him over to sit on the table. "We'll need you to have a full-body examination, I'm afraid... would you just slip that off?"

Her fingers slid down to his towel, slipping it off; Gene smothered a grin as it dropped to reveal an impressive erection. Alex gasped.

"Yes, well, would yer like me ter show yer what 'appened, Mrs Officer? It started like this..."

Gene's skilled fingers dipped down towards Alex's midriff, sliding into her and out, finding her slick and wet and ready for him; her hips arched towards him, and he grinned, kneeling on the floor in front of her and flicking his tongue over her womanhood as she sighed, her knees buckling at the onslaught of sensation he was dealing out onto her. Gene grinned around her, tasting honey and arousal, easing her back to leaning on the table as her legs weakened and she moaned in open appreciation of his efforts.

"Yes, please... oh God... Gene... GENE!"

She screamed his name as she spiralled crazily into bright white, clutching at her husband's shoulders to find an anchor, submitting to a lip-bruising kiss as he bent over her, waiting until she was responding to slide into her welcoming heat, thrusting gently as she gasped, reaching down to stroke his balls as he rubbed her over-sensitised clit.

A passing sheep paused and looked up, puzzled and curious, as two people screamed in delight from the little cottage.

* * *

"Come on, Mr Thompson, just ease yourself back an' I can pull you to safety," Shaz called desperately, one hand outstretched as the windswept, tear-glazed man clutching photos of his son and daughter in one sweaty palm looked down over the edge of the London Bridge and then back at the WDC trying to coax him back over the edge. Molly, sitting in the car behind them, chewed on her lip; Chris was cradling a lukewarm cup of tea, Ray fiddling with a Rubik's Cube beside him.

"How's she doin'?" Ray asked in a low voice, looking up to see Shaz trying the heartstrings again. Chris shrugged.

"Dunno. Can't look."

Molly groaned at the pair of them, sliding the door open as quietly as she could to get some fresh air into the stuffy little Renault.

Mr Thompson made a sudden movement, as though he was about to throw himself off; Shaz yelped in surprise, rushing forwards, grabbing at the man's shoulder as he braced himself-

"NO!" Molly yelped, flinging the door open and scrambling out of Chris's grasp to run forwards, ignoring Shaz's hissed instructions to get back into the car as Mr Thompson stared round at her. She met his gaze, her breath hitching at the pain in his face; subconsciously she reached out towards him, her features softening into friendliness.

"Mr Thompson... sorry to run up like that. I'm Molly Drake. Well, I want to change it to Hunt now. But for now you can just call me Molly. Look, please- don't kill yourself. Please?"

"Why?" the man choked out, bracing himself again; Molly started forwards, fully aware that she was out of her depth and only just registering Shaz stepping back in the corner of her eye, every muscle in her body tensed. Her stomach clenched.

"Your kids need you, that's why! If you give up, how will you ever appeal that decision by the courts? If you're dead, how will you ever see your kids on your own terms? You're just making it a whole lot worse for yourself- and for them."

His eyes swerved to meet hers.

"My dad left my mum when I was six months old. I used to look at the other kids with their dads and be so jealous it was unbelievable. I'd cry into my pillow when I was little because I didn't have a dad to give me piggy-backs and make mud pies with me. How old are your kids?"

"T-two and three," Mr Thompson murmured, his hands no longer scrabbling at the edge. Molly breathed a tiny sigh of relief.

"How are they going to feel when they're older? They'd feel like you'd abandoned them, taken the easy way out. They'd be the ones looking at their friends' dads and thinking, _where's my dad? _You'd never get to see them grow up, never watch their graduation ceremonies, get to give them away at their weddings, hold your grandchildren in your arms. They'd have an empty space where their dad should be. And I only realised how horrible it was to have that empty space when I found my dad."

"He came back?" Mr Thompson asks meekly, wringing his hands. Molly shook her head tentatively.

"My mum's boyfriend. He's my dad now. I don't care about my blood dad, but I wish so much he'd bothered with me. Gene is ten times the man he was. Do you want your kids to have someone else as their dad? Wonder what would have happened if you hadn't killed yourself? Miss you so much, be too young to understand and then have to grieve all over again when they realise what it really means? Please. You can't put your children through that. The courts can change their minds, people can be reconciled. But death can't solve anything. Please, Mr Thompson, don't do it to your babies... your little boy, your little girl. If they were here now, they'd be so upset, they'd want you back so desperately. Think of them. Come back, not because the courts have won, or because you've given in, but because you love your children."

Molly was panting with the exertion of her speech, the emotions battling in her chest; Gene's smile swam in her mind's eye, her mother tearing a photo of Pete up in their old lounge in 2007 as Molly cried on the sofa after he hadn't turned up to her eleventh birthday celebrations. Her blood ran cold with remembered misery for a second that contained an eternity as she stared at the man now rigid on the edge of the bridge, his shaking fingers grasping a metal bar to his left. Shaz had stopped breathing, the two men in the car fixated on the young girl and the man she was bonded to for a few snatched seconds of time.

And then Mr Thompson pushed himself back into Shaz's waiting arms, and Molly almost fainted with relief.

As he was ushered into a police van to be given a cup of tea and some Garibaldis Ray had pinched from Gene's office, everyone watched Molly with an almost awed respect.

* * *

Gene stirred sleepily, in a very comfortable position; he was using Alex's right breast as a pillow. _Mmm... best position in the bloody world. _He nestled further into it, his stubble brushing the sensitive nipple; Alex murmured in her sleep, reaching down to brush her fingers over his broad back before settling and sleeping again. Gene looked up at her, smiling happily, a sensation he was beginning to get used to after years of it being redundant.

_I am the luckiest man in the world. No doubt._

The bottom of the bed was sagging slightly; Gene didn't think anything of it, assuming they'd put something on it or, in his half-asleep state, that Molly was there. His naked feet, sticking out of the duvet, hit something fluffy, and he frowned, opening his eyes again and peering down towards the end of the bed.

"Ba-aa-aa-aaa..."

"BLOODY 'ELL!"

Gene's horrified shout jerked Alex into consciousness; they leapt off the bed simultaneously, both staring at the sheep snuggled innocently under the covers, watching them curiously.

Alex found that her mouth was too stunned to work; Gene grabbed the nearest thing to cover his decency and ended up sheltering his man-fruits with a pink fluffy cushion. The sheep cocked its head, happily chewing the cud.

"Ba-aaa?"

Alex covered herself up as best she could with her arms and a pillow, glaring at their unwanted bed-mate; Gene looked down at his midriff and hastily dropped the fluffy cushion, snatching his discarded shirt.

"I 'ave never felt more like a Welshman."

* * *

A/N: No offence to the Welsh with that last joke- you know what Gene's like! I have nothing against the Welsh, my boyfriend is one. Sorry for the massive delay, writer's block and holidays and such have delayed my writing considerably, so please remember to review and I hope you enjoyed! Jazzola :)


	14. Temptation, Inferiority

"Sorry about that," the elderly farmer who turned up to retrieve his sheep told Gene and Alex as he shepherded the animal into his lorry, blissfully ignorant of the scene earlier that day when the sheep had been discovered. "She's a right one fer gettin' away, this one, aren't yer, Dolly?"

Gene, desperate to get himself and his new wife back to bed, glared silently as Alex tried desperately to distract the elderly man from her husband's daggers, chattering about nonsense as the sheep watched smugly from the lorry. Gene gave it a middle finger behind the farmer's back.

"Meh," the sheep seemed to reply with a cocky bleat, its tongue protruding from its mouth. Gene turned the middle finger into a V-sign, holding both hands up; Alex tried and failed to surreptitiously kick him.

"Ba-a-a-a-aaa."

"Shit-eater," Gene hissed under his breath, turning his best Gene Genie death glare on the sheep. It belched nonchalantly.

"Dirty bastard. Filthy little bugger. Bloody sheep-shaggin' son of a-"

"Thank you for coming to get it so quickly, sir," Alex said hurriedly, watching out of the corner of her eye as Gene mouthed increasingly dirty obscenities at the animal. "I'm getting a bit cold, so I'll say goodbye- come on, Gene, things to do!"

_Like you, if you'll only stop swearing at that sheep!_

She grabbed Gene's arm to distract him from his slanging match with the sheep, all but tugging him back into the cottage as the sheep bleated in amusement, staring serenely out at the couple as the lorry drove away and Gene hurriedly stuck his fingers up as one last goodbye.

"Gene, _behave!_" Alex hissed, plastering a fake smile on to wave at the farmer as he departed. Gene simply lifted the other middle finger in the sheep's direction.

"Get inside before he realises you've been cussing his sheep," Alex chided, yanking the door open and shoving Gene through. He raised his eyebrows as she slammed the door behind her, inadvertantly forcing him into the corner of the hall.

"Dominant, Bolls? Works fer yer..."

"I'll show you dominant if you like," Alex muttered, the sight of Gene ruffled and backed into a corner doing wonders for her downstairs department. He raised his eyebrows, yelping and squirming as she grabbed his jaw, carefully but still roughly forcing his head back, only quieting when she started licking and nibbling at his neck, her other hand rubbing his growing erection through his trousers.

"Christ... not _that _dominant, yer 'urtin' me," Gene gasped, tickling her to get her off; she squealed, trying to bat his hands away, laughing so hard her sides began to hurt. _Damn him! I was trying to be dominant! Ah well, go with the flow, Alex, it can't be that bad..._

"OK, you win. I've lost my dominance," she laughed, tugging on his hand to pull him through into the living room. "You can do what you like with me."

Gene grinned, taking both her hands in a romantic gesture Alex would never have thought the Manc Lion capable of and easing her onto the sofa, bending over her to capture her lips in his.

"I can think o' a few ways in which yer can show me yer obedience..."

The sheep-cussing was very quickly forgotten.

* * *

"_This means nothing to me, this means nothing to me, oh Vienna..."_

Molly dropped her pen onto her homework in exasperation, the scratchy tones of 'Vienna' grating from Shaz's Walkman making it impossible for her to concentrate. She idly doodled on her mother's desk, attempting to solve a page of equations and trying to ignore Ray boasting about what he'd done with her maths teacher in what he fondly imagined were quiet, secretive tones.

"An' then I told 'er about this position I tried out wi' a bird back in Manchester once, an' she seemed very keen ter..."

"Oh, shut up, Ray," Molly groaned, picking up an old biro of her mother's and throwing it at the back of Ray's head. Not only did she get him right on the nape of the neck, but the pen then went down his shirt; the group Ray had assembled around him burst out laughing as he yelped, ferreting down the back of his jumper to try and get the pen out.

"You get yer 'ead down an' do yer 'omework, eh?" he growled at her, clutching the unfortunate biro hard in one hand. Molly just smiled, holding up the completed page of equations.

"Done. Now, unless you know anything about Othello and would like to share some wisdom with me, I've got English homework to be getting on with. And then German translations. So keep your imaginings about my maths teacher to a minimum, would you?"

Ray sneered.

"German translations? What, the Krauts bomb us day an' night fer years an' then they expect our kids ter learn their language? Bastards," he growled, turning back to his little posse as they nodded in agreement. Molly rolled her eyes. _The Neanderthal strikes again. How do Mum and Dad put up with him?_

"You know, the British killed approximately one hundred and fifty thousand Germans in Dresden alone during the Second World War? All the casualties in Britain totalled approximately sixty seven thousand. Doesn't really compare, does it? British planes bombed schools, hospitals. Hundreds of dead children laid out in the wreckage of their school. Think how many mourning parents that is. Parents exactly like the ones you deal with when their children have been murdered. And those children were innocents who simply got caught up in the War, solely because they were German. They did nothing to deserve to die. So why don't you shut your mouth, _DS _Carling, and start acting your age instead of like a spoilt toddler?"

Molly spun round, having put Ray firmly in his place, and snatched up her pen again, determinedly staring down at the page of German translations. Ray opened his mouth, evidently ready to taunt her some more, but at that second Chris burst into CID, car keys dangling from his hand.

"Armed blag at a chemist's. Yer in charge, Ray."

"God help us all," Molly muttered, still pissed off at Ray for his racist jibes. The DS gave her one more sneering look and stalked out, yelling at several officers to follow him.

_Just because yer DI Drake's daughter, doesn' mean yer above me. I'll show you, Molly Drake._

* * *

"Yer daft bint."

"You made me drop it!"

"No I bloody well did not!"

"You snuck up behind me and startled me! You made me drop it."

"Yer knew I was there."

"Oh, for goodness' sake. Pass me the cloths."

"Don't know where they are."

"Then go and find them. You're a detective."

"Christ, it stinks!"

"Yes, Gene. Congratulations. Where are those cloths? We can't leave it there."

"Why are we arguin'? I said I was in charge 'ere."

"Control freak."

"Yer weren't complainin' earlier."

"Well, I... oh, shut up, Gene, and give me a hand, if you want me to have done this this side of midnight!"

Gene picked up a stack of towels and passed them to Alex, sitting back in his chair and shifting his coat over his crotch.

Alex rolled her eyes at him, mopped up the car shampoo on the floor, and then turned and bent over the Quattro again, knickers straining to cover her, breasts tipping out of her bra.

_I'll keep my side of the bargain, Gene, and then you can keep yours..._

She washed the Audi with slow, circular wipes, smooth and alluring, watching her husband all the while out of the corner of her eye, loving the visible effect she was having on him; Gene's face was darkened with desire, his teeth worrying at his bottom lip adorably in an attempt to keep himself together, his hands firmly over his groin. She winked at him, bending even further to wash the bonnet, her bottom swaying mesmerisingly in time with her swipes, the soap suds on her thighs driving him wild. She could tell he wanted nothing more than to drag her off to the bedroom and ravish her there, but this was her game now, and she was going to play it the way she wanted- which was to drive Gene to the very brink of what he could cope with, and then let the barriers break.

Slowly, alluringly, she slipped one hand round to the clasp of her bra, popping one small metal hook, watching him like a hawk all the while; his gaze was torn between her fingers and her eyes, her incredible body and the porcelain orbs dancing with laughing wickedness, her soul and her being.

One cup peeled off, and then the other.

Gene bit down so hard he drew blood.

* * *

"Drop the gun."

"Who's going to make me? You and whose army?"

"I'm police, mate. I'm armed. I'm in control. Drop the gun."

"Yeah right. All talk and no words, that's what you are. I'll show you- pig!"

_BANG._

"NO!"

* * *

A/N: What a wonderful cliffhanger there! I'm so sorry about the delay in updating, I've had such awful writer's block I was half convinced my poor little muse rabbit had died. But she's back and munching on lettuce, so you're alright. Please remember to review! Jazzola


	15. Redtooth and Cowboys

"CHRIS!"

"_CHRIS!_"

And all of a sudden the world was a blur, as Ray and Shaz ran to the lifeless body of their DC, barely even registering the gunman being arrested, shaking Chris' shoulder, grabbing his hand, slapping his face, stroking his hair-

"Where's the wound?" Shaz asked frantically, her hands flitting over Chris' body, trembling with panic and fear as they pushed clothing aside, pressed to a hammering pulse...

"Er... WDC Skelton?"

"Not now!"

"WDC Skelton..."

"I am tryin' to save my 'usband's life! 'E's been shot! So shut up!" Shaz screamed at the constable trying to get her attention, pushing the edges of Chris' jacket aside. The constable sighed.

"WDC Skelton, your twonk of a husband hasn't been shot," he pointed out, somewhat indelicately. "The bullet went over there."

As Ray and Shaz raised amazed faces in his direction, he pointed to a small hole in the concrete wall of the chemist's, out of the depths of which something was being fished out by a man wearing latex gloves. Ray and Shaz stared in silence for a minute, and then in synchronisation looked back down at Chris, slumped on the floor of the shop.

"Yer great nancy," Ray groaned, shaking his head. "'E fainted!"

With one last slap to Chris' face, Ray stood up and walked off, sighing his exasperation. Shaz tried hard (and failed miserably) not to laugh.

* * *

"Ready for your turn?" Alex called through the closed door an inch from her face, her gaze almost innocent as she stood outside the bathroom stark naked, holding a strip of black silk in both fingers, twirling it provocatively round her waist as she waited for her husband. _He's been in there for ten minutes now... what happened to 'I-can't-wait' Gene?_

"Almost!" came back grumpily. Alex frowned.

"You don't have to if you don't want to, Gene. I can think of something else if you're really that keen not to." _Even though I have been wanting to do this practically ever since I met you._

"'Ooever said I wasn' keen? I'm very bloody keen. Just... Christ, Bolls, seems a bit kinky, doesn't it?"

"Role play, Gene. Role play. Besides, that bit'll be over in five minutes, and then you'll be buried balls-deep in me and only able to think of how good it feels. Just indulge me, eh?"

"Didn' think it was your thing, dressing up."

"If you want, I'll don a nurse's uniform when we get back."

Silence.

"Gene?"

After another short pause, Gene's strained voice filtered through.

"Z y x w..."

_Oh shit. I've nearly tipped him over the edge._

"Um... think of a naked DS Carling. With a naked DC Skelton. Doing things they shouldn't be doing."

"Bolly, I'm tryin' ter keep control of Sergeant Rock, I'm not tryin' ter top myself."

Alex giggled.

"Come on then, you. Out you come. Or are you scared you don't measure up?"

The door flew open.

Alex almost sank to her knees in a puddle of lust then and there.

Gene was standing in the door of the bathroom, endless legs encased from mid-calf down in cowboy boots complete with spurs, leather gloves on his hands, and a Stetson hat perched on top of his messy blond hair.

The rest of him was bollock naked.

* * *

"'Ow you doin', baby?" Shaz asked sympathetically as Chris took a sip of water, perched on his chair in CID and surrounded by jeering police officers. By now, Chris' tale of woe had taken several tours of the station; Shaz was laying bets on who would be the first to phone Gene and Alex to let them know and have a good laugh in the process. Ray, naturally, was the favourite.

"Alright," Chris muttered, turning away as Ray tried to catch his eye, the mother of all grins on his face. Shaz smiled at him, patting his arm as she headed back to her desk. Chris wondered whether she meant it condescendingly or not. She'd certainly been rather annoyed with him when he'd come round.

"How'd the shout go, Ray?" Viv asked innocently, strolling past Chris' desk with a wad of files under his arm. Shaz rolled her eyes. _Here we go again._

"Well, alright really, Skip," Ray replied smoothly, his eyes glinting as Chris shuffled in his chair, picking his pen up and pretending to work on a piece of paperwork. The illusion was only ruined by the fact that the form was upside down.

"Alright, but Chris 'ere fancied a nap on the job!"

The laughter rumbled round CID just as Molly headed back in, rolling her eyes at Shaz and patting Chris' shoulder in solidarity. It wasn't his fault he was nervous. From what she'd heard from Gene about Chris' past, it was to be expected that the DC wouldn't like anything to do with guns or being shot one little bit.

"Leave him alone, I'm sure you've had an accident in your boxers more than once," she tossed back at Ray, who smirked.

"Remember that call-out in 1976, Chris? The one where yer couldn't find the loo in time?"

"Shut up," Chris muttered, his face closely resembling a tomato as Viv walked back out past him to his desk, trying and failing to hide the smile on his face. Molly turned her back on the sniggering DCs, sighing inwardly at the immaturity of her parents' work colleagues. _How does Mum get through a day here without strangling one of them? Probably DS Carling…_

"You know, people generally make fun of others because they feel inadequate, Ray. You're teasing Chris about his genitals… what does that say about yours?"

Ray choked indignantly on his mouthful of tea, glaring at Molly as Viv stuck his head round the door, a small smirk on his face as he clocked Ray's tea-splattered jumper.

"We've got a phone call from Fenchurch Street, an elderly lady took a fall and the person who called the ambulance thinks she was pushed," he called, raising his eyebrows at Ray's condescending look.

"Send it ter plod, Viv."

"The elderly lady had £2,000 of money raised for Macmillan Cancer Support in her handbag, which has mysteriously vanished," Viv added simply, stepping back for the whirlwind of DS that abruptly stomped out of the doors, yelling for Chris and Shaz to accompany him. Molly leapt up, giving Viv a hopeful smile.

"The elderly lady's in Interview Room 3. You could make her a cuppa and take her some biscuits, Molly," Viv suggested, waving a file in the air. "I'm up to here in paperwork."

"Every little helps," Molly sang, patting her back pocket and ignoring the confused looks from the rest of CID as she went through to make the cup of tea.

It was only when the kettle was halfway through boiling that she realised she'd got Tesco's and Asda mixed up.

_How did I manage that?_

* * *

"You are bloody filthy."

"You loved it."

"You are still bloody filthy."

"And you still loved it."

"I demand justice."

Alex laughed, snuggling up to Gene and pulling the Stetson hat down over his eyes, kissing the tip of his chin as he swiped it off and let it fall to the floor beside the bed.

"Come on. You can't say that wasn't brilliant."

"It was."

"So what's the complaint?"

"No complaint. Yer just filthy."

Alex swiped him with the strip of black silk, pressing an idle kiss to the crook of his neck and nuzzling his chest, leaning down to lick one nipple as he eased his head back, groaning with appreciation.

"Now yer've got my attention. Just… a bit lower… quite a bit lower…"

"You're insatiable."

"You started it."

"You're still insatiable."

"Bolly, you… ooohhhh!"

_Well. That's one way to end an argument, _Alex chuckled to herself as Gene's protest dissolved into a lustful moan. _Mm… I like this way…_

* * *

Molly was in the middle of a dilemma.

She was chatting amicably to the elderly lady in the Interview Room, having made a mug of tea and brought in a plate of her father's pink wafers. The lady Viv had shepherded in with his full-watt smile and made comfortable was very sweet, offering little anecdotes and laughing whenever Molly made a joke, but the girl's full attention wasn't quite there.

She was forgetting.

She'd got Tesco's and Asda mixed up earlier. She'd then got MSN wrong, and had been thinking about MNS until she'd caught herself at it and realised it was wrong. Her username on YouTube now completely evaded her, as did her Facebook password and the name of her BlackBerry's model. She kept wondering whether it was Redtooth or Bluetooth. Or was it Yellowtooth? _Ahh! Who knows? It's not like I can bloody Goggle it… Google! It's Google! Right?_

"You're very deep in thought there."

Molly didn't realise she'd left her elderly companion in silence until the woman broke it; she gave an apologetic smile, sighing as she lent back in the seat and offered the lady the biscuits again. She took one gratefully, watching Molly like a curly-haired hawk as the girl took one herself and munched absent-mindedly on it, spilling crumbs down her top in her distraction.

"I'm trying to remember some stuff. Stuff I used to know, but I've just… forgotten. And I shouldn't, it was important stuff."

"Important stuff can be hard to remember," the lady said softly, putting her hand on Molly's knee. "What kind of thing?"

"It's… hard to explain… passwords I used to use with my friends, and adverts, things I won't see again for a long time. Like I said, it's hard to explain."

The elderly lady smiled, leaning back to mirror Molly, picking her handbag up and foraging in it for her purse. Molly watched curiously, her eyes following the lady's fingers as they pulled a piece of paper out from the bottom of the purse, holding it up to the light.

"This piece of paper, Molly, has the exact marriage vows I made to my late husband, and the ones he made to me. But even though I carry it with me in my purse, I never forget a word, and I don't think I ever will."

Molly blinked, a little lost as to the moral of the story. The lady opened the paper briefly, her eyes scanning the words, the page paled with time.

"And that's because this truly is important. Always will be. But little things, like adverts… even if they were special at the time, you have to check how crucial they really are in the real world. Are they actually that important? Are they really something that you'd mourn?"

Molly's eyes were unfocused, staring at the piece of paper in her companion's hands. _Are they important? Are they? No… not really. Not really. They _were _important, once upon a time, but they can wait, can't they? It's not like I'll be using Facebook any time soon._

"No," she said softly, so quietly the lady barely even heard her. "No, they're not."

"Then let them go, Molly," the lady said simply, taking another biscuit. "Focus on the here and now. Life. Live in the moment for a change, Molly, because I'm sure you'd enjoy it."

"Mrs Handoll?"

Molly and the lady both swerved as Viv opened the door a crack, smiling at both of them, his keys jangling in the quiet room. Despite the elderly lady's smile, Molly sighed inwardly. _Couldn't you have been a couple of seconds later, Viv?_

"Your daughter's arrived to take you home, Mrs H," Viv smiled, holding an arm out to her. The woman beamed, taking Viv's hand to lever herself up, patting Molly's shoulder as Viv made to accompany her out.

"Remember what I've said… don't remember. And before anyone says anything, that pun was completely unintentional."

Molly couldn't help but laugh, her heart suddenly feeling a lot lighter as Mrs Handoll vanished, leaving only the faint smell of talcum and rose perfume behind her.

_Don't remember. I can do that._

* * *

A/N: I am so, so sorry for the delay! This fic has gone months now without so much as a sniff of being updated. I'm sorry! I hope you liked the new chapter, and I know I'm a twonk, but please, please review! Jazzola :D


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